


To Kill a Nightmare

by N16



Series: To Kill a Nightmare [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur has a brain, BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Bromance, But he's a little bit of a jerk, Friendship, Gen, Knighty Questy, Magic Revealed, Stubborn Merlin, Whump, angry arthur, he learns though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:54:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26999278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N16/pseuds/N16
Summary: Will Arthur ever be able to forgive Merlin for the lies he told? With a creature of dark magic threatening Camelot, does he even have a choice?
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: To Kill a Nightmare [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007190
Comments: 237
Kudos: 553





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The graphic violence isn't that graphic (in my opinion) and there isn't much of it, but the descriptions of the wounds might be a bit much for some people. So I'm marking the warning just in case. :)

Arthur sat with his chin resting on the table, spinning a spoon in front of him as he thought aloud. "It could be a trick," he mused. "Something to make me trust him, and then he could turn against me later."

"Not a very well thought out trick," Merlin said from across the room where he was making Arthur's bed. "If he's just trying to earn your trust, then it doesn't make much sense to do it anonymously."

"I don't know. Maybe he just wants me to trust all sorcerers?"

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Or maybe he just genuinely wanted to help."

Arthur sat up and looked at Merlin curiously. "It's not like you to defend a sorcerer, Merlin. You usually get jumpy if I even mention magic."

"I do not!" Merlin protested, looking offended.

"Yes, you do. Any time someone mentions magic, you go pale – paler than normal, I mean – and you shut up, which is almost a magical event in and of itself."

Merlin scowled, but didn't argue.

"Why is this one different?" Arthur pushed.

"Because he helped!" Merlin resituated the pillows, making sure the bed looked perfectly neat. "You would have died if he hadn't intervened, so I guess I'm grateful to him. I mean, without him, I'd be out of a job."

Arthur snorted, tilting back in his chair. "And heaven knows no one else would ever hire you as a servant."

Without warning, the chair slipped under Arthur, dumping him unceremoniously out on the floor. Merlin didn't even try to hide his laughter as Arthur got up and brushed himself off, doing his best to look dignified.

"Not a word," he warned, pointing a finger at Merlin. Merlin just snickered to himself as he moved on to cleaning up the breakfast dishes.

"The thing I keep coming back to," Arthur wondered, returning to the subject at hand, "is _how_ the sorcerer even knew where we'd be."

"Maybe he just stumbled upon us on accident?" Merlin suggested.

"A mile deep into an underground cave?"

Merlin shrugged. "I guess he must have followed us then."

Arthur frowned, flopping down on the newly-made bed and staring at the ceiling. "Every breath echoed in that cave. Surely we would have heard someone following us. Besides, with all of those forks, they would have had to stick pretty close not to lose our trail."

"Arthur, he's a sorcerer," Merlin said with a note of exasperation. "He probably just used magic."

"Yes, probably," Arthur agreed halfheartedly. "But before that, he would have had to follow us through the castle, which means it's someone who could move through the castle unnoticed." Arthur looked worried suddenly. "What if it's someone _in_ the castle? What if it's one of my knights?"

"So what if it is?" Merlin asked. "He helped you, Arthur."

"It could be anyone though, couldn't it?" Arthur realized, ignoring Merlin. "Not just the knights. It could be one of the guards. It could be one of the servants." He sat up and looked at Merlin. "Merlin, I know servants talk. Are there any rumors among the servants about someone being a sorcerer?"

"No," Merlin said shortly. "Those kinds of rumors get people killed. The servants I'm friends with are smart enough to know that."

Arthur ignored his cross tone and stared thoughtfully into space. "Even if he did follow us, why? Assuming his intentions are sincere – which I'm definitely not sold on yet - I doubt he just follows every step I take. He must have thought I'd need his help." Arthur looked at Merlin suspiciously. "Did you tell anyone what we were doing?"

"What?" Merlin asked, startled. "No, of course not!"

Arthur made a face. "No, you don't normally let things like that slip. Which is a miracle, considering how you are with secrets."

Merlin scowled at him, then picked up the tray of dishes and left the room, leaving Arthur to his thoughts.

* * *

When Merlin returned to Arthur's room that afternoon, he was surprised to find Arthur there.

"I thought you were training this afternoon?" he asked as he carried the clean laundry over to the wardrobe.

"Hmm?" Arthur said, turning away from the window. "Oh, yes. We did. For a bit. I ended it early."

Merlin looked at him in shock. "You ended training early?" he repeated disbelievingly.

"Yes," Arthur said. "I wanted some time to think."

Merlin frowned at the wardrobe, his back to Arthur. Arthur had done entirely too much thinking since their adventure in the cave. Merlin half wished for a crisis of some sort to distract him.

"Arthur, in six years, I have never once known you to end training early."

Arthur just shrugged. After a minute or two of silence, Merlin looked up from the clothes to see Arthur staring at him.

"What?" he asked nervously as he folded a shirt.

Arthur made a face, pursing his mouth thoughtfully, then took a step towards his servant. "Merlin?"

"Yes?" Merlin asked, glancing only briefly at Arthur as he placed a couple of folded shirts in the drawer. It was his standby technique. If Arthur was paying a little bit too much attention, just focus on his chores like everything was normal.

"I have a crazy question for you," Arthur said. "I know the answer, but just…humor me. To put my mind at ease."

Merlin went very still for a moment, then went back to folding clothes, although noticeably more carefully now. "Yes, sire?"

"You…" Arthur laughed uncertainly. "You're not the sorcerer, are you?"

Merlin's stomach dropped. He had pictured a thousand different ways that Arthur might find out his secret, but most of them involved him triumphantly saving Arthur's life. None of them involved him folding Arthur's socks.

Before Merlin could come up with an answer, Arthur shook his head. "Of course you're not. Sorry." He laughed again, and Merlin laughed weakly with him. "It's just that it _would_ explain everything. And not just the thing in the cave. Other things too. But that's crazy. I mean, after all of these years together, I would know. You wouldn't keep that from me. Right?"

Merlin focused hard on putting the stack of folded socks in the drawer.

_Just lie_. It's what he had done a thousand times before. And it was clear Arthur didn't really believe the idea he was suggesting. Merlin knew he would be easily persuaded.

But for all of the lies he had told, he had never looked Arthur in the face and said he wasn't a sorcerer. And Merlin knew that sooner or later, Arthur would have to know the truth. And when that time came, he would remember this moment.

Ever since Uther died, Merlin had said he was waiting for the right time. The right opportunity. And opportunities didn't get much more obvious than this.

And the truth was…Merlin was tired. Of the lies. Of the hiding. And in that moment, the idea of telling another lie – of telling the biggest lie of all – sounded exhausting.

He wasn't ready. But ready or not, the time was here.

Merlin slowly rose to his feet and turned to face the king, who was watching him curiously. It was evident from the look in Arthur's eyes that he believed the idea was crazy. He looked almost sheepish. But the longer Merlin went without speaking, the more Arthur started to look confused.

Merlin licked his lips nervously and took a deep breath. When he finally spoke, the words were barely audible, and his voice shook.

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean…" he trailed off, took another breath, and tried again. "Yes, Arthur. I'm the sorcerer."

Arthur stared at him, searching Merlin's face for a sign he was joking. First he looked confused, and then astonished, and then confused again. Then he stumbled a few feet over to a chair and sat down.

"I wanted to tell—" Merlin began.

"Shut up." Arthur didn't say the words with anger, or with any emotion other than shock. They were barely more than a whisper.

Merlin's mouth snapped shut. He stood with his hands behind his back, shifting nervously as he waited for Arthur to process the information enough to react.

"You're a sorcerer," Arthur said finally, looking up at Merlin for confirmation. Merlin nodded, and Arthur looked away again.

"All this time," he whispered in disbelief, "you've been _lying_ to me?"

"I wanted to tell—" Merlin tried again, but Arthur cut him off.

" _Shut. Up."_ He still didn't raise his voice, but the first traces of anger were audible. "I don't…I don't want to hear excuses, Merlin," he said, still sounding dazed. "Just the truth. Was it just a lie of omission? Or have you been lying to my face?"

Merlin flinched. "I've lied," he admitted, looking away. "Not just by omission."

"Look at me, Merlin." Arthur sounded less dazed now, some of the authority of the king coming back into his voice. He waited until Merlin met his gaze again to continue. "Once or twice?" he asked. "Or has lying to me been a regular thing for you?"

Merlin's eyes closed again. He could feel himself starting to tear up. _Don't cry_ , he ordered himself fiercely. _Do not cry_.

Arthur had ordered him to look at him, he remembered, so he forced his eyes open again. He'd been silent long enough that he knew Arthur already had his answer, but the king was still looking at him expectantly.

_He's going to make me say the words._ Merlin's stomach turned.

"Not just once or twice," he admitted shakily. "I've…there have been a number of lies."

Arthur's eyes still hadn't left him. "Little white lies or big lies?"

"Some of both." Merlin sniffed, then flinched when Arthur stood up and walked towards him. But Arthur just handed him a handkerchief and stepped back again, beginning to pace next to the table. He waited until Merlin had wiped his eyes and nose before continuing.

"How long?" he asked. When Merlin looked genuinely confused by the question, he clarified, "How long have you been studying sorcery? How long have you been lying to me? In other words," Arthur's mouth twisted into a pained smile, "at what point in your service to me did you decide to betray me?"

"No!" Merlin insisted, the word nearly coming out as a shout. "It wasn't like that, I promise. I was born with magic. I never had a choice. Arthur, I have never betrayed you. I swear it."

Arthur looked taken aback. "Born with it?" he repeated, puzzled.

Merlin felt a small surge of hope. If Arthur would allow him to explain, there was at least a chance he could make him understand.

"I've always had magic, from the time I was a baby. I didn't have to learn it. It just happened."

"Huh." The noise came out almost as a laugh, and the hope vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Arthur studied him carefully, his mouth turned down tightly. "So you've been lying to me literally from the very beginning. I've never actually known you."

"It's not like that." Merlin did his best to keep his voice even. "I'm still me. And I have always, always been loyal to you. I use my magic to help you. To _protect_ you."

Arthur let out a harsh laugh. "Why should I believe you? Why should I believe that everything else was a lie, but this is the truth?"

Merlin shook his head desperately. "Everything else _wasn't_ a lie, Arthur. Just…" he sighed. "Just some of it."

"I trusted you." Arthur finally turned away from him and faced out the window. "More than anyone else, really. With my secrets, with my information, with my weapons. I trusted you with my life!" Arthur laughed incredulously. "And you _lied_! For years, you lied to my face, over and over again!"

"I would have been killed!" Merlin's voice rose with frustration. "Sorcery is punishable by death, in case you've forgotten! Because believe me, I never forget it. Not for a minute."

"Because magic corrupts," Arthur said bitterly. "It's poisonous to everything it touches."

"No, it's not." Merlin argued passionately. "Magic can be used for good or evil, just like a sword."

"Magic is _nothing_ like a sword!" Arthur snapped. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head incredulously.

"It was just a crazy idea," he said after a moment. "I never dreamed you'd actually say yes. You're _Merlin_ , for heaven's sake! Why…why would you even _come_ to Camelot if you had magic? It's not like you didn't _know_ what happens to sorcerers in Camelot! Why run the risk? Unless…" Arthur stopped pacing abruptly and flinched as though he'd been hit. "Unless your plan all along was to get close to me?"

"That's ridiculous!" Merlin retorted before he could help himself, and in an instant Arthur had crossed the room.

Merlin barely registered the movement before he felt the fist connect with his face. He grabbed a chair to help him keep his balance, his vision swimming for just a moment. When it cleared, he could see Arthur, still standing mere feet from him.

"You have lied every minute that we have known each other." Arthur's voice was rough with rage. "You have kept secrets that would endanger me and my kingdom. And you have the nerve to say that my suspicions are ridiculous?"

Merlin swallowed and took a step backwards. He'd seen Arthur fight enough to recognize the way he was standing, his feet braced, his hands ready. There was a very strong possibility he was about to throw another punch.

Then, to his surprise, Arthur dropped his hands slightly and rolled his eyes. "For heaven's sake, Merlin, have you never been in a fight before? You're supposed to try to hit me back!"

Merlin froze, his hand still covering the cheek where the punch had landed.

"I know you're not much of a fighter," Arthur added, just a hint of mockery in his voice, "but are you a sorcerer or aren't you?"

And another fist hit his ribs, harder than Merlin would have thought possible, knocking the wind out of him and making him double over.

"Come _on_ , Merlin!" Arthur cried. "You could take me down without touching me, couldn't you? Fight _back_!"

One more blow, this one to his eye, and Merlin finally fell backwards, the table behind him saving him from sprawling on the floor.

As he saw Arthur draw back for another punch, he shielded his arms over his head.

" _I will not fight my king!"_ The words came out choked and shrill, but fierce. He waited, but the next blow never landed. Slowly, he lowered his arms to find Arthur glaring at him, hands at his side. Then Arthur turned his back and walked away from Merlin.

"Get out of my sight."


	2. Chapter 2

If Arthur were the kind of man prone to heavy drinking, Sir Leon might have suspected he was drunk. The king's eyes were bloodshot and glazed, and unless Leon was mistaken, his hands were shaking very slightly.

"You sent for us, sire?" Leon asked tentatively. That in and of itself was strange; if Arthur needed to speak with the knights, he would typically summon them to the council chambers or the throne room. It was unusual to be summoned to the king's chambers.

"Shut the door," Arthur commanded, and Percival quickly obeyed. "I have a task for the two of you. It is…sensitive in nature. I'd like you to handle it with the utmost discretion."

Leon shared a look with the younger knight and nodded. "Of course, sire."

Arthur took a deep breath, hands braced on the table in front of him. "I need you to arrest Merlin."

Leon had not been expecting that. Sure, Merlin did things on a weekly basis that would land most people in the dungeons, but the normal rules didn't seem to apply to him. And yes, Merlin _had_ in fact spent some time in the dungeons before, even at Arthur's command, but that had been a long time ago. And even then, most of his treks to the dungeons had been more of the "teach him a lesson" variety.

Leon had no idea what was going on now, but one look at Arthur's face told him this particular order was not about teaching Merlin a lesson.

"What should we say the charges are?" he asked finally, once he realized his stunned silence had gone just a moment too long to slip by unnoticed.

"He'll know," Arthur said flatly. "Gentlemen, I do not want _anyone_ to know of this. I'll cover for Merlin's absence, but no one is to know he has been arrested. Not the other knights, not even the men who will be guarding him. If Gaius is there when you arrest him, make sure Gaius understands that he is not to speak a word. Understood?"

Leon did not understand at all, but he nodded. "Yes, sire."

He and Percival made the trip to the physician's chambers in silence. Normally, something this far out of the ordinary would spark discussion and speculation, but this time, both men kept their mouths shut. Whatever was going on was significant, and Leon felt too uneasy to engage in idle chitchat about it.

It took Gaius several seconds to answer Leon's knock, and when he did so, he looked flustered and upset.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen," he said curtly, not even pretending to show his usual politeness, "but now is not a good time."

Leon put out his hand to catch the door before it closed. "I'm sorry, Gaius," he apologized, "but we're here officially. By order of the king. Is Merlin here?"

It wasn't just Gaius's face that fell; his entire body seemed to collapse in defeat.

"It's all right, Gaius," Leon heard Merlin say from inside. "Let them in."

Looking resigned, Gaius opened the door for them.

Merlin was seated at the table, his chin propped in one hand while the other hand held a poultice to his face. He glanced briefly at the knights and then looked away.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," Leon said before he could stop himself. He cursed himself silently; his duty was to the king, and he should not apologize for carrying out the king's orders. But he couldn't unsay the words now. Trying not to let his reluctance show on his face, he finished, "You're under arrest."

"Sir Leon," Gaius jumped in, "he's injured. I think this is absurd, and you can tell Arthur I said that, but surely I can at least tend to his wounds before you take him?"

"It's okay, Gaius." Merlin gave his mentor a sad smile. "It's no more than I deserve."

Leon could tell by the scowl on Gaius's face that he did not agree.

As Merlin got to his feet, he removed the poultice, allowing Leon his first proper look at the left side of his face. It was swollen, and just beginning to turn purple. He would have a black eye for sure, and probably some impressive bruising beyond that.

Leon felt his uneasiness ramp up into nervousness. He strongly suspected those bruises had come from Arthur. And while Arthur could be demanding and short-tempered and condescending, he had never, ever struck a servant.

"I have the poultice, and we both know there's not much you can do beyond that." Merlin made a face at his mentor that might have been intended as a reassuring smile, and Gaius stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his ward in a hug.

"I'll be all right," Merlin promised. "Don't worry about me."

"I don't think that's an option," Gaius said as he released him. "But see that you _are_ all right."

"Gaius," Percival said uncomfortably, "Arthur asked us to make sure you understand that you are not to say a word of this to anyone. He would like to keep this quiet."

"I'm sure he would," Gaius replied coldly.

"Do as he says, Gaius." Merlin looked hard at his mentor. "Please. This is something I have to handle." He waited until Gaius gave him a tight-lipped nod, then turned to Leon. "I understand if you have to restrain me, but I'm not going to fight you or run or anything. If we're trying to be discrete, I give you my word that I will walk with you quietly."

Leon hesitated, then nodded. "We'll just walk together then," he agreed. Merlin was right; it would be more discrete that way. But it also would allow Merlin to maintain more dignity, and Leon saw no reason to unnecessarily humiliate him."

"Wait!" Gaius called out as they reached the door. Leon turned around and saw Gaius hurrying after him, a small bottle in his hand. "This will help with the pain. His face and ribs are going to get worse before they get better."

_And ribs?_ Leon stared at the bottle, bewildered.

"Of course," he said, taking it from Gaius.

It took a little bit of footwork getting Merlin into the dungeons without letting the guards know the identity of the prisoner. Leon had to send them away for a few minutes while they got Merlin situated in the cell in the very back. Merlin, true to his word to be cooperative, walked straight into the cell and sat down against the side wall.

Percival left first, but Leon lingered just for a moment. It felt wrong to close and lock the door on Merlin.

"Oh!" He fished the bottle from Gaius out of his pocket. "Your pain medicine," he said, setting it down on the floor. Merlin nodded to show he heard.

Leon stared at him for a moment, but ultimately, he had to admit there was nothing more he could do.

He was halfway out the door when Merlin stopped him.

"Leon?" he asked. The knight paused and turned around. Merlin stared blankly at the cell wall as he spoke. "I know I have no right, but…can I ask you for a favor?"

Those would be dangerous words from most prisoners, but coming from Merlin, they just made Leon feel pity.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Can you ask Arthur," he began, and to Leon's horror, he heard a quaver in Merlin's voice. Merlin took a deep breath and tried again, but his voice was no steadier the second time. "Can you tell Arthur, if…if he has to do it, I understand, but…but if he has to do it, can it be the block or the noose? Can you ask him," and Merlin's voice caught on the final words, "not to use the pyre? Please?" He closed his eyes, but Leon saw a tear escape. "I don't want to burn." Merlin swallowed, seeming to pull himself together a little bit, but he still didn't look at Leon. "Will you ask him that?"

Leon felt sick to his stomach, but he nodded. Then he realized Merlin's eyes were still closed, so he answered, "Yes, Merlin. I'll ask him." It came out as a whisper.

"Thank you."

Leon climbed the stairs out of the dungeon in a state of numb disbelief.

_By the gods, Merlin, what have you done?_


	3. Chapter 3

"He asked what?" Arthur asked incredulously.

Leon cleared his throat uncomfortably. "If you were to…execute him, sire, he asked that it be the chopping block or the noose. He said he didn't want to burn."

Arthur needed to punch something. Or throw something. Or break something. But he was a king, and kings showed self-control. They did not have the luxury of throwing hissy fits.

So Arthur settled for slamming his hand into the post of his bed. He struck it with his palm instead of a fist, so he told himself that didn't count as punching something. It still sent a sharp stab of pain through his hand, which was already bruised.

Arthur didn't want to think just then about how it had gotten bruised.

Leon stood silently watching. Arthur could see the questions in his eyes, but he was never more thankful for Leon's loyalty than he was just then. The man was willing to follow Arthur's orders without an explanation, which was something Arthur could not provide.

"Leon," he asked, "what kind of man am I?"

Whatever Leon had expected, that clearly wasn't it. His eyes went wide in surprise, and then his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Sire?"

"The people who know me best in the world apparently don't trust me at all. And if the people who truly know me don't trust me, how can the people of Camelot ever trust me? And then, to have someone who knows everything about me – to have _Merlin_ , who I thought always saw more good in me than I deserved – to have him believe not only that I would kill him, but that I would _burn him on the pyre_?"

Arthur shook his head, laughing shakily.

"What kind of man am I?" he repeated tiredly, rubbing his hand over his eyes.

"Sire, I don't know what happened with Merlin," Leon said hesitantly, "but I do know that you're a good man and a good king."

Arthur nodded. It wasn't much of a pep talk, but then again, pep talks weren't really part of Leon's job description. That had always been Merlin's job. He had done it admirably well. But apparently he never meant a word of it, if this is who he believed Arthur was.

"I'd like you or Percival to handle everything with him for now," Arthur said. "One of you can bring him his meal each day. If any other interaction is needed, I want it to be handled by one of you. Make sure the guards understand."

Leon nodded and bowed. "Yes, sire." And then he left the room with a haste that Arthur couldn't help but notice, leaving Arthur alone with his aching hand.

That night, Arthur had a nightmare. There was a dark creature who breathed fire. Arthur felt its claws in his skin, the heat of its fire on his face. He could see nothing beyond the creature. It was as though the universe ceased to exist, apart from fear and the pain.

He woke up shaking, but once the nightmare faded, he felt almost grateful. The dream was terrifying, but he preferred it to a dream of his servant burning on a pyre.

* * *

That afternoon brought Arthur a visitor he had no desire to see.

George was meticulously scrubbing the table clean from lunch when the knock sounded. He popped up and was at the door before Arthur could even consider pretending he wasn't present.

Of course, it wouldn't really be appropriate to ask George to lie and say he wasn't there. That wasn't really _kingly_ behavior.

He could have asked Merlin, though.

"Gaius!" George greeted him warmly. "Please, come in!" George opened the door wider for Gaius to enter, then turned to Arthur and said unnecessarily, "Sire, Gaius is here."

Arthur took a deep breath. George might not have been the best choice for a replacement servant with Arthur in his current mood. "So he is," he said tightly, not even trying to smile. "George, could you please excuse us?"

George gave a quick, deep bow before exiting the room, leaving Arthur and Gaius in an awkward silence.

"Gwaine came to me after your training today, sire," Gaius said stiffly. "He asked me to come see to your hand."

Arthur glanced down at his hand in surprise. He had almost forgotten about it, although it _had_ given him quite a bit of trouble that morning.

"It's fine," he said, clenching and unclenching his fist. "I didn't want to worry you with it since…" he stopped, but Gaius finished the sentence for him.

"Since you broke it on the face of my ward?"

Arthur winced at the thinly veiled anger in the physician's voice.

"You fractured a rib as well, you know." Then Gaius gave a large sigh. "All the same," he said, sitting down next to Arthur and reaching for his hand, "you are the king, and this is your sword hand. It is important that it heal properly. Let me take a look."

Gaius was not particularly gentle as he poked and prodded, making Arthur wince more than once. Arthur wondered if he was doing it on purpose. He wouldn't have blamed him if he was.

"Did you know?" he asked. He hadn't planned on confronting Gaius – at least, not yet. But sitting here in silence, the words slipped out.

"Yes," Gaius said shortly. "The first time we met, I had an accident that would have killed me. Merlin intervened with magic and saved my life."

"So you saw it? He didn't tell you?"

"No, sire," Gaius said. "Merlin doesn't tell anyone. Contrary to what you may think, he does have some degree of a survival instinct, and not telling anyone about his magic has certainly been a matter of survival." He dropped Arthur's hand. "Nothing is broken, but avoid using it for at least a week. No exercising. No training. No punching servants." The words might have been humorous in a different context, but the bitterness of Gaius's tone made the statement anything but funny. "Keep it wrapped up, and I'll bring you a poultice this evening to help with the inflammation."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you, Gaius," he said quietly.

Gaius nodded curtly, but to Arthur's surprise, he did not immediately stand.

"I'd like to see him," he said. "I tried, but the guards said he is not to have visitors."

Arthur cringed. "Yes," he confirmed, "I gave the order no one is to come or go."

"I'd ask that you make an exception for me, sire." Gaius stared at him frankly, and Arthur had to look away. What Gaius was asking for was reasonable, and they both knew it. But Arthur had his reasons for keeping Merlin isolated in the dungeon.

"I'm sorry," he said, still unable to meet the man's eyes. "I cannot grant that right now. You can see him soon, Gaius. Just not yet."

Gaius sighed and stood. "He's loyal to you, sire," he said reproachfully. And even though Gaius didn't say anything else, Arthur could see the rest in his eyes.

Gaius was ashamed of him.

* * *

"From what we have been able to gather from the various accounts, it started on the western edge of the kingdom," the young knight explained nervously. He was newer to the position and had never had to give a report from patrol before, and certainly not one with bad news.

"And what do the accounts report?" Arthur asked, clenching his uninjured hand into a fist to keep himself from drumming his fingers on the arm of the throne. He'd had little patience or interest in matters of state over the past few days, but the situation before him now merited genuine concern. He needed to concentrate.

"Well, that's the strange thing, sire," the knight said, fidgeting slightly. "They all report a beast who breathes fire, but no one quite agrees on what it looks like. Some report seeing a lion; others, a dragon. And one man insisted he saw a goat. He was quite sure about it."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "A goat?" he repeated, and some of those in attendance behind the knight snickered. The knight shrugged, looking a little sheepish.

"That's what the man said, sire."

Arthur sighed. "All right. What else do we know?"

"It has taken livestock once or twice, but it seems to prefer human prey. It's fast, but it doesn't seem to be able to fly, thankfully. And based on the reports, it's moving east."

"Farther into the kingdom," Arthur murmured. "Anything else?"

The knight hesitated. "It might be nothing," he hedged, but Arthur gestured for him to continue. "Everywhere the beast goes…it seems that certain signs precede his arrival."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Signs?"

The knight swallowed. "Nightmares, sire. In each town where the beast attacked, multiple townspeople spoke of having nightmares in the days leading up to the attack. And they spoke of…well, of having a nightmare _when_ the creature attacked. As though the creature was born from the nightmares themselves."

Arthur snorted. "Superstitious nonsense," he dismissed. "But it sounds like the beast itself is real enough. Another patrol is set to leave this afternoon. Please make sure you have briefed them fully on the situation before they go."

The man bowed and left. Arthur knew what he needed to say next, although the words tasted sour coming out.

"Gaius, do you know anything about a creature like this? If it breathes fire, it seems logical to assume it is a creature of magic."

Arthur had done his best to avoid speaking directly with the physician for the past several days, but Gaius was the resident expert on magic, and Arthur needed information.

It occurred to him Merlin might actually know more than Gaius about magic. It was an unsettling idea.

"It doesn't sound familiar to me, sire," Gaius admitted, "but I will look into it and see what I can find out."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you. We'll have to deal with this creature, but if possible, I'd rather know what we're dealing with before we ride out to find it."

"Of course, sire." Gaius bowed deeply before leaving the throne room. Arthur wondered if anyone else thought the bow seemed mocking.

* * *

Sir Leon did not look happy, although Arthur supposed he couldn't blame him. Last time Arthur had summoned him to his chambers, the knight had been sent to arrest Merlin. Arthur appreciated that Leon – and Percival – had fulfilled their orders without arguing, but he knew it must have been difficult for both men. And now on top of it, they had to keep the whole thing a secret.

"I wanted to thank you," Arthur said from where he sat at the table, goblet in hand, his dinner still untouched on the table. "What you did last week. I know it wasn't easy." He gestured to one of the other chairs. "Please, sit."

Some of the awkwardness faded once Leon was seated as well, the formality of the meeting lessened.

"It was certainly unexpected," Leon said. "And I admit, I'm still quite confused about the whole thing."

Arthur snorted. "You and me both," he muttered into his drink.

Leon hesitated, then pushed ahead. "The other knights are concerned about his absence. Not all of them believe the story about him visiting Ealdor. He was just there a month ago, and it's not like him to just disappear midday. Besides, he doesn't typically stay away this long.

Arthur had known that would be a problem, but a visit to Ealdor was the most likely story he had been able to come up with. No one would believe that he was gone for days collecting herbs for Gaius.

"Thank you for letting me know," he said. It was a problem he'd have to sort out later. "Have you been taking him his meals?"

"Usually, although sometimes Percival handles it," Leon looked curiously at the king. "Why?"

Arthur was silent for a moment. Part of him felt that, on principle, he shouldn't ask. But really, why shouldn't he? And he needed to know.

"How is he?" he said finally.

Leon's face tightened into a frown in response. "Honestly, sire? Not very good. He hasn't really moved. He just sits in the same spot. He hasn't touched the food or drink, or the pain medicine that Gaius provided. And apart from saying 'thank you' each time, he doesn't speak."

Arthur was startled. "He hasn't had anything to eat or drink in five days?"

"Not as far as I can tell," Leon confirmed quietly.

Arthur tilted his head back to study the ceiling and sighed. What kind of game was this? Why would Merlin just sit in the dungeons starving himself?

"Next time you go down, see if you can get him to eat something, or at the very least have something to drink."

Arthur could have sworn he saw the ghost of a smile on Leon's face as the knight nodded, but he chose to ignore it.

"I will do my best," Leon promised.

"Thank you. But Leon?"

"Yes?"

Arthur struggled for a minute to find the right words. "Don't tell him…don't say anything about me. About me telling you to do that."

There was definitely a smile now, in the eyes if not in the expression. "I understand, sire."

* * *

"I believe," Gaius said soberly, "that we are dealing with a maera."

The council chambers were empty except for the two of them. The recent tension between them was palpable enough that Arthur wanted to minimize any witnesses to their conversations.

"What is a 'maera'?" he asked.

"Reports on the details vary, sire, but all accounts indicate it is a combination of creatures. Most reports say it is a two headed creature with the body of a lion. One head is a lion, and the other is a goat."

Arthur was temporarily stunned out of his discomfort. "Two heads?" he repeated, dumbfounded.

"Yes, sire. And instead of tail, it has the neck and head of a dragon. All the heads breath fire, just as the report from the patrol said, and it has a taste for human flesh."

Arthur shook his head. "I guess that would account for the variety in the reports," he acknowledged, "but it sounds like the story of a child or a drunk."

"Be that as it may," Gaius said, "it sounds like it is real, and it is in Camelot."

"Yes," Arthur admitted tiredly. "It is. Did your research say anything about how to kill it?"

Gaius hesitated for a moment. "The stories say it lives within nightmares until it decides to feed. Then it is born out of a nightmare, and disappears back into a nightmare when its hunger is sated."

Arthur stared at him in shock. "Are you joking? _Nightmares_?" His own nightmare had recurred twice that week, and now he feared it wasn't a coincidence.

"I'm afraid I'm serious, sire." Then Gaius stood up straighter as though bracing himself, and a scowl overtook his face. "It can only be killed by magic."

Arthur sighed, sinking back into the chair. "Surely that's not true, Gaius. There must be other means of defeating it."

"It is mortal, but nearly unbeatable in its physical form. According to my research, it has only been successfully killed with enchanted swords. No ordinary human weapons seem to be able to harm it."

Gaius paused, giving Arthur a chance to respond, but Arthur remained silent.

"It is more vulnerable in its dream form," he continued, "but only a powerful sorcerer would be able to fight it from within the nightmare. And even then, he would need help. The stories tell of a magical object, the Ainthia, hidden in the Valley of the Fallen Kings. It would enable the sorcerer to face the maera from within the nightmare."

Arthur leaned his head back, staring up. He seemed to be getting well acquainted with the ceilings of the castle this week.

Gaius had to be wrong. There had to be a way to defeat this thing by ordinary means. The knights of Camelot had no equal in skill and courage; perhaps they would be able to succeed where others had failed.

"Sire, if I may suggest—" Gaius began.

"No," Arthur interrupted, "you may not." Gaius shut his mouth, but his eyes blazed. "We will find another way to defeat it. After all, you told us the same thing about the griffin, and we managed to kill that without magic, didn't we?"

"Actually," Gaius said tersely, "you didn't."

That pulled Arthur up short, his eyes snapping from the ceiling to the physician's face. "What are you talking about?"

"The spear Lancelot used to kill the griffin was enchanted. That's why he was able to succeed where everyone else had failed."

Arthur studied Gaius closely, but he could see no signs that he was lying. "Merlin?" he asked, already knowing the answer, and Gaius nodded. Arthur swore under his breath. "All right. That will be all. Thank you, Gaius."

A creature that could only be killed by magic, and a sorcerer in his dungeons. Arthur may have cut Gaius off before he could make the suggestion, but he knew the next steps were obvious. Inevitable, even.

Damn it.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur asked George to draw up a bath for him and to bring him a dinner plate, which prompted the servant to look at him with concern.

"You're already had dinner, sire," he reminded Arthur gently. "Perhaps you would like a sleeping draught?"

"If I wanted a sleeping draught, I would have said I wanted a sleeping draught," Arthur snapped. "But I asked for food, so clearly I want food." Not that he would take a potion prescribed by Gaius at the moment anyway. Even if the physician didn't kill him, he might relish the idea of making Arthur suffer a little bit.

Leon arrived just as George was stepping out.

"Sire, Sir Leon is here," he announced, Leon fully visible standing right beside him.

"I can see that, George," he said, trying with all of his might to hold onto his temper. He was in for a long evening, and it wouldn't do to start getting angry over little things now.

If it had been Merlin, he would have thrown something at him. If he threw something at George, the man would probably drop dead of shame on the spot.

With another bow, George finally left the room, leaving Arthur alone with Leon.

"How is he?" Arthur asked without preamble.

"I got him to eat a couple more bites and take a drink of water this morning," Leon replied, "but I don't think he had any more after I left, and I still don't think he's had any of the medicine from Gaius."

Arthur nodded. "All right. Bring him up, please."

Leon blinked in surprise. "Sire?"

"Bring him here. I wish to speak with him."

It was not standard practice for the king to question prisoners in his chambers. There were other rooms – honestly, almost any other room of the castle – better suited to that purpose. But Leon recovered quickly and nodded.

"Of course, sire. I'll be back shortly."

* * *

Arthur had been to Gaius's chambers many times over the years, but never when he had known he would be entirely unwelcome. Still, he forced himself to swallow his nerves and knock on the door.

"Enter," he heard Gaius call from inside.

Gaius's stunned expression when Arthur walked in was almost humorous. Arthur tried to force a smile, but he knew it looked as stiff and unnatural as it felt.

"Hello, Gaius. I uh – I came to pick up some clothes."

Gaius's eyebrows almost went off his forehead. "Clothes?"

Arthur cleared his throat. "Clean clothes. For Merlin. I'll just, uh—" he pointed to Merlin's room, then quickly walked up the steps and away from the awkward conversation.

Standing in his servant's room, he wondered how on earth he could even know which clothes were dirty and which were clean. Everything was sprawled across the room, the cupboard empty as usual.

Behind him in the doorway, he heard Gaius clear his throat, and he turned around to see the physician holding a few articles of clothing.

"These were freshly washed," he said quietly, handing them to Arthur. "May I ask why you need clothing for him?"

Now it was Arthur's turn to clear his throat. "The dungeons are dirty," he said awkwardly. "I thought some clean clothes might be nice."

Gaius raised an eyebrow at him skeptically, but Arthur made a quick exit before he could ask any more questions.

* * *

Arthur barely made it back before Leon arrived with Merlin. When Leon walked in with the prisoner, Arthur felt his stomach turn uncomfortably.

First there was the issue of Merlin's face. One week was not long enough for the bruising to heal; instead, the left side of his face encompassed most of the colors of the rainbow.

Second, there was the way Merlin was standing, slumped down, fidgeting uncertainly.

And third, there was the flat look in his eyes.

"That will be all, Leon," Arthur said, and the knight nearly ran for the door in his haste to be gone.

Arthur had planned what to say, but looking at Merlin, he completely forgot about the words he had scripted.

"Merlin, what the hell are you doing here?" he burst out instead, exasperated.

To his relief, some life came back to Merlin's face in the form of confusion. "Leon said you sent for me."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Not here in my chambers – here in _Camelot_! Why didn't you escape? You were down there for a week without a single visitor! Don't tell me you couldn't escape the dungeons. Those dungeons have never successfully held a sorcerer the entire time I've been alive."

Merlin still looked puzzled. "Camelot is where I belong, Arthur. And you're my king. I'm not going to run away from either."

"Even though you thought I was going to burn you on the pyre?" Arthur's voice was sharper than he intended.

Merlin winced at that. "I'm not running away," he repeated stubbornly.

"I can't _believe_ you asked me not to burn you. Did you honestly think that I would do that? That I would tie you to a pile of wood and _set you on fire_?" Arthur was nearly yelling by the time he reached the last word.

Merlin's eyes flashed and his chin tilted up, and Arthur was relieved to see some of the old fight start to spark back to life. "It's what happened to Gaius when the witchfinder accused him. I watched him on that pyre. I saw that torch come within inches of setting him on fire. You don't forget something like that, Arthur."

Arthur remembered Merlin's devastation when Gaius had been sentenced to death. It had made sense to him; Gaius was like a father to Merlin. But now he realized that Merlin was also watching his own fate play out before him, should he ever be caught.

But that had been Uther's doing. Not Arthur's.

"I'm not my father, Merlin," Arthur said bitterly. "I thought you knew that."

Merlin didn't answer for a moment, and when he did, his voice was low. "I was scared, Arthur. You were furious. You punched me – multiple times – and had me thrown in the dungeon. What was I supposed to think?"

Arthur rubbed his hand over his eyes. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't even know what _I_ think at this point."

"So you haven't decided what to do with me?" Merlin asked cautiously, and Arthur shook his head.

"I have no idea what to do with you," he confessed. He paused for a moment. "This past week, I kept remembering things you've told me over the past several years. Some things make a lot more sense now, but some things… I just remember them randomly. They'll come to mind for no reason whatsoever. And do you know what question I keep remembering, more than anything else?"

Merlin shook his head, eying him curiously.

"'How long have you been training to be a prat?'" Arthur couldn't help but laugh a little bit, and even Merlin showed signs of a smile.

"It just doesn't make sense, does it?" he continued. "If your goal was to get close to me, your plan was terrible. I remember Cedric, who came out of nowhere and just about fell over himself trying to serve me and tell me what an honor it was. You were the absolute opposite of that."

The smile fell from Arthur's face. "None of it makes sense to me, Merlin," he said tiredly, and then he sighed. "I guess we have a lot to talk about. But first things first."

Merlin looked at him questioningly, and Arthur gestured towards where the tub was set up behind Arthur's dressing screen

"For starters, you need a bath. You smell awful. And please, whatever you do, stay behind the screen. My eyes don't need that kind of trauma."

Merlin looked genuinely mystified. "A bath?"

"Yes, Merlin, a bath. And then some food. Leon says you've hardly eaten a thing."

Merlin stared at the dressing screen like it was a creature he'd never seen before.

"For gods' sake, Merlin, what is it?"

His servant looked at him blankly. "I've never had a bath in a tub before. I've always bathed out of a bucket or a bowl of water, unless there was a river or a lake nearby."

Arthur suddenly remembered Guinevere telling him years ago that her house didn't have a tub. It hadn't occurred to him that Merlin's experience would be the same.

"Well, it's not complicated," he said brusquely. "I'm sure you can figure it out. I'll be back in a few minutes."

George still hadn't arrived with the food, and the last thing Arthur wanted was for him to walk in and find Merlin. If word got out that Merlin was back, Gwaine would be banging on his door within minutes looking for him. Not to mention how odd it would look that Merlin was bathing in the king's chambers.

Arthur stepped out of his room and tried to look as casual as possible standing in the hallway. As though it were perfectly normal for the king to just loiter aimlessly outside his chambers. And he waited for George.

That ended up being the easy part of what should have been a very simple plan.

"I'll take that, George," Arthur said as cheerfully as possible, reaching out for the dinner tray. But George frowned and pulled it away from him.

"That is not necessary, sire," he insisted. "I will set up your dinner inside."

"But you already set up one dinner for me tonight," Arthur argued. "It wouldn't be fair to ask you to set up a second. I'll take care of it."

George looked mildly affronted. "I do not mind setting it up twice. I am the king's servant. It is my job."

The words 'You are _not_ the king's servant' were on the tip of Arthur's tongue, but he forced himself to swallow them.

"George, just give me the damn tray," he said instead. "And then take the rest of the night off."

George frowned. "But I haven't turned down your bed."

"The bed will be fine. I will be fine. Enjoy the rest of your evening." And Arthur grabbed the tray from him and hurried back into the room.

Merlin was just pulling on his shirt, and out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw the bruising along his side. Wincing, he chose to pretend he hadn't seen and focused on putting the food on the table.

With the grime washed off, the bruising on Merlin's face stood out more starkly, and it was even more obvious how thin he was. Arthur sighed and gestured to the food, taking the seat across from Merlin.

"You're going to tell me everything, Merlin," he said quietly. "And you are never going to keep a secret from me again. You are never going to lie to me again. Are we clear?"

Merlin met his gaze soberly, his eyes wide, and he nodded. "Yes, sire."

"All right. To start with, why did you come to Camelot?" he asked. "Of all the places in the world, why come live in a castle with a king who had outlawed sorcery on penalty of death?"

Merlin was quiet for a moment, staring at his plate.

"People in Ealdor had noticed that there was something wrong with me. I'm not sure any of them could have put a name to it, besides Will. As far as I know, there were no whispers about me as a sorcerer. But there were whispers about Hunith's son, who just seemed like there was something not quite right about him. So my mother sent me to Gaius. She thought he might be able to help me…learn how to blend in, I guess."

Merlin said it very matter-of-factly, but it rang a bell with Arthur.

"You told me a long time ago that you left Ealdor because you didn't fit in. That you hoped you would find a place to fit in here. I asked you back then if you'd found it and you said you didn't know yet."

Merlin nodded, "I remember."

"So?" Arthur asked. "Did you find it?"

"Some days I thought I had," Merlin answered with a sad smile. "I've never been happier than I have been in Camelot, and sometimes I feel like I have a place here. But then something will happen and I'll use magic, and that will lead to me lying and keeping secrets again. And then I'm back to…" he shrugged. "You know."

Arthur frowned. "No, I don't know."

Merlin's voice was deceptively casual, and it was hard to read to his face. "Then I'm back to being alone. How can I really belong when I have to be apart from everyone? I'm not like everyone else. I have different powers, and because of that, I have different responsibilities."

Arthur laughed under his breath. Strangely enough, he understood completely.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He had a thousand questions for Merlin, but most of them were born of mere curiosity. This one, though - this was the question that had consumed him for the past week..

Merlin poked at the food. "In the beginning, because it would have been pure idiocy. You didn't even like me, and your father would have had me executed without a second thought."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I don't mean, 'Why didn't you tell me the first week,' Merlin. Why didn't you tell me _after_ that?"

"We got to know each other well enough that I honestly considered it. I thought there was at least a chance – a good chance, even – that you wouldn't report me to Uther. But I also knew that if I did that, I'd be asking you to choose between me and your father. I couldn't be sure you would choose me, but even if you did, I didn't want to put you in that position. So I thought I would just wait until Uther died."

Arthur tried to think back. What would he have done if Merlin had told him then? He honestly didn't know. He couldn't imagine sentencing him to death, but would he have tried to stop his father? After all, he hadn't stopped his father when he nearly had Gaius executed.

He nodded at Merlin. "I can understand that," he admitted. "But you didn't tell me after my father died. Also, the food doesn't do much good unless you actually eat it."

Merlin obediently took a bite. "I had a plan," he said as he swallowed the food. "I was going to tell you after your coronation. But then…it seems silly now, but I had never thought about what that time would actually be like. I was always excited about the day you would be king, because I knew you would be a great king. But I never thought about the fact that your coronation would inherently go hand-in-hand with you grieving the death of your father." Merlin gazed apologetically at him. "It seems obvious now."

Arthur smiled ruefully. "Believe it or not, I had that same moment of surprise."

"You were grieving," Merlin continued, "and you were overwhelmed learning how to be a king, not to mention the fact you blamed magic for your father's death. I felt like telling you then would just be adding one more burden for you to carry. So I decided to wait until the dust settled."

Arthur tilted his head in concession. "Fair enough. Then what?"

Merlin sighed and sat back in his chair, setting his fork down even though he continued staring at his plate. "Then time passed. And eventually one day I realized I had run out of excuses, but I also realized I had waited too long. The time to tell you had passed, and I had missed it. And I knew that no matter how I did it or when I did it, you would be furious. Maybe furious with me for having magic, but definitely furious with me for lying to you."

Arthur snorted and shook his head. "Honestly, Merlin, I had rather hoped for a better excuse than that."

Merlin finally looked up and met his eye, and he smiled bitterly. "I wish I had a better excuse than that. But that's the truth. I started hoping that the right moment would just present itself. That I would know it when I saw it. And then you asked me pointblank, and I thought I probably wouldn't ever have a better opportunity than that."

"I guess that answers the question of why you decided to tell me now," Arthur mused. "That was another one I wondered about." Then his gaze fell on Merlin's plate again and he rolled his eyes. "For gods' sake, Merlin, I haven't poisoned it. You have to eat something. I can't afford to have you falling out of the saddle tomorrow."

Merlin's eyes widened. "The saddle? Where are we going tomorrow?"

"We have a little problem we need to address," Arthur said. "Gaius can give you a rundown tonight when you get home."

Merlin's face broke into an excited grin. "I'm going home?"

"You might as well," Arthur said. "The main point of having you in the dungeons was so you'd run away. Which I really thought you would, by the way."

The Merlin in front of him almost looked like the man Arthur knew, apart from the cringe-worthy bruising and the boniness. The smile made all the difference.

"Thank you, Arthur," Merlin said, and Arthur winced at his obvious sincerity. It didn't feel good to be thanked for just allowing him to see his guardian and sleep in his own bed. Especially not with those bruises.

But all Arthur said was, "Be ready to leave first thing in the morning. And Merlin?" He waited until he was sure he had Merlin's attention. "Not a word to anyone about this for now. But if I decide to let you stay, you will tell my knights. The inner circle, at least. We need to be able to trust each other, and _I_ won't keep a secret this large from them."

Merlin swallowed, but he nodded without arguing.

"Also, I assume this goes without saying, but you are absolutely forbidden to practice any magic without my express permission."

Merlin winced. "What if someone is in danger and might die unless I help?"

Arthur just glared at him.

"I'm serious, Arthur. Please don't ask me to stand back and let my friends die. To let _you_ die. I don't want to lie to you or keep any more secrets, but I don't think I can agree to that."

Merlin looked genuinely distressed. Arthur wanted to stand his ground on principle, but Merlin brought up a fair point. Was he really willing to let one of his knights die for the sake of his stubbornness?

He sighed. "Fine. You can use it to save someone's life. But don't even think about abusing that permission. Now eat."


	5. Chapter 5

Gwaine couldn't but chuckle a little bit at Elyan wincing from the sunlight, earning him a glare from his friend.

"How is it I feel awful," Elyan complained, "and you seem perfectly fine?"

Gwaine shrugged. "I didn't drink that much."

"You drank twice as much as I did!" Elyan protested incredulously, making Gwaine laugh again.

"But you're a lightweight, and I am not. Besides, I know my limits, and I know better than to exceed them the night before we leave on a quest. Unlike some people."

Elyan scowled and opened his mouth for another retort, but Gwaine missed whatever he said, because right then he saw the horses in the courtyard.

And he saw the person standing with them.

"Look!" He elbowed Elyan, and Elyan grinned as well.

"He's back!"

Merlin's absence for the past week had been strange. For one thing, he left without saying anything, which was unusual in itself. But that could be explained away if it had been an emergency. Even more strange was Arthur's behavior, and Gaius's for that matter. Arthur had snapped at Gwaine whenever he had asked for more information, like why Merlin had left so abruptly and when he'd be back. Gaius had simply scowled when asked, and informed him that he should speak with Arthur if he wanted more information.

All in all, it had been a tense week in general, and Gwaine's gut told him Merlin's absence had something to do with it.

He hurried over to Merlin, excited to see his friend again, but he stopped short when he got a closer look. It was barely light out, but even so, the bruising on his face was visible, and Gwaine was sure his clothes hung on him more loosely than usual.

"Merlin?" he asked. Merlin's head popped up in surprise. Clearly he hadn't heard him coming. When he saw Gwaine, he smiled, but the smile was stiff, and Gwaine noticed that he didn't quite meet his eyes.

"Morning," Merlin said, sounding more polite than cheerful.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked in shock, and Merlin's smile fell.

"I had a run-in," he said, "but I'm fine. It looks worse than it is. Honest."

"A run in with who? Were you attacked on the road?"

"The road?" Merlin stared at him blankly.

"The road to…" Gwaine trailed off. He had just spotted Arthur headed their way.

And, like it had been all week, his hand was wrapped.

_No_. It wasn't possible. But somehow, Gwaine knew he was right.

What could have possibly happened to make Arthur actually hit Merlin? The two certainly argued nearly nonstop, but even at its worst, it was only slightly tense. He had never sensed actual _anger_ between the two of them. And Arthur wasn't the type to strike any servant, much less one he was close to.

Whatever had happened, Gwaine was going to find out. Right now.

He had only taken two steps towards Arthur when he felt Merlin's hand close tightly on his arm, and then he found himself being dragged into a passage off the courtyard.

Gwaine looked at Merlin in surprise, rubbing his arm once Merlin released him. Apparently the servant was stronger than he looked, even when he was in rough shape.

"Don't." Merlin's eyes darted frantically toward the courtyard.

"Don't what?" Gwaine tried to sound innocent. He didn't care what Merlin said, he and Arthur were going to have a chat. Soon.

"Don't get involved," Merlin insisted sternly. "This is between me and Arthur."

"It looks like it's between your face and Arthur's fist," Gwaine snapped back. He tried to step around Merlin, but Merlin intercepted him.

"I lied to him, Gwaine. I committed a crime, and I kept it a secret, and I lied to him about it. Honestly, I'm lucky he's not having me executed."

Gwaine hadn't been expecting that. He stared curiously at Merlin, Arthur temporarily forgotten. "That doesn't sound like you. What did you do?"

Merlin sighed. "I can't say any more. I shouldn't have even said that much. But…this is a mess, but it's a mess of my own making. And you getting involved certainly won't help me work things out with Arthur."

"Have you looked in a mirror recently, Merlin?" Gwaine asked, glaring at the bruises. "Someone needs to have a talk with Arthur."

Merlin just glared back. "Gwaine, _leave it alone_. Do you really think it will help things if Arthur believes his knights' loyalties are divided now? Then he'll just have another reason to be angry with me. Besides, you swore fealty to Arthur, not to me. Your loyalty _should_ be to him."

"And as a loyal knight, I feel it's my duty to tell him when he's being an ass," Gwaine argued, but it was halfhearted. As much as Gwaine wanted Arthur to have a matching set of bruises, Merlin had a point. His involvement _could_ make things worse.

He sighed in defeat. "Fine. But if he hits you again, all bets are off."

Merlin's eyes narrowed. "We'll cross that bridge if we come to it."

"Yeah," Gwaine muttered as he followed Merlin back out into the courtyard. "I'll cross it with a sword in my hand."

A few minutes later, the party headed out of the castle. Gwaine couldn't help but notice that while Leon and Percival both looked uncomfortable, neither of them showed surprise when they saw Merlin. Elyan kept shooting concerned looks at Merlin and perplexed looks at the other knights until eventually Gwaine dropped back with him.

"I don't know what's going on, but for right now, it's best if we don't get involved," he said as quietly as he could. "At least, not yet," he added darkly. Elyan still looked confused, but he nodded.

As they headed down the road towards the forest, Arthur called back to Merlin, "Merlin, you're up here with me."

Merlin rode to the front, and as he fell in beside the king, Gwaine heard Arthur add, "I don't trust you behind my back."

* * *

Merlin had been on many, many outings with the knights. The trips were usually filled with storytelling and jokes, especially with this particular group. These four were Arthur's closest knights, and they had formed a bond over the past few years. But this particular trip was awkwardly silent, and Merlin knew he was the reason. Every time he glanced over his shoulder at the quiet group behind him, he saw Gwaine sulking and Elyan looking confused. And Leon and Percival wouldn't even meet his eyes.

Arthur didn't make it any better, spending most of the day in silence and snapping whenever someone tried to talk to him.

And on top of that, Merlin's ribs throbbed with every step the horse took.

It made the day very, very long.

It was midafternoon when they stumbled upon the first signs that they were headed in the right direction. Elyan spotted it first.

"Does something about that look wrong to you?" he asked, squinting through the trees to their right.

Merlin almost acted automatically. Now is when he would typically send out some magic, just to see if he sensed anything, and maybe enhance his vision to see into the distance. He remembered just in time, clamping down tightly on the magic before any of it went into action.

He hadn't realized how often he used magic until it was forbidden. It was awful trying to function without it, like he was missing a limb. But he was determined to follow the rules.

The past week had been hell. Not just because of the dungeons, although they were admittedly unpleasant. No, the worst part had been the waiting. The not knowing. There had been no trial, no sentence passed. He'd had no visitors other than Leon and Percival, both of whom had been kind, but distant and clearly uncomfortable.

Just a week of wondering. Wondering how angry Arthur was. Wondering if he would be executed. Wondering if he would be banished. Wondering if maybe he was just going to be left in the dungeons forever. Wondering if he would ever see his mother again. Wondering if he would ever see Gaius again. Wondering if he would ever see Arthur again.

Wondering how long he would have to wonder.

And there was absolutely nothing to distract him. When he thought about negative things, he felt hopeless. When he thought about positive things, he felt even worse. Why think on the things he loved about his life in Camelot? It just forced him to recognize how much he had to lose. How much he might have already lost, and he didn't even know it yet.

When Arthur had summoned him the night before, he truly had no idea what to expect. It was too late in the day for a formal trial in the throne room, so he could rule that out, but what was left? He certainly hadn't expected to be led to Arthur's chambers as opposed to the council room or the throne room. And he definitely hadn't expected a bath and a meal meant for royalty.

Arthur had been far less angry than the last time he'd seen him, but he had been guarded. The bags under his eyes and the tight set of his mouth told Merlin he hadn't had an easy week either. It was reassuring to at least know Arthur wasn't able to completely dismiss or forget about him, even if he was in the dungeons. Arthur looking terrible gave him some hope.

He had tried to be as honest and transparent as he could be. And he was still trying. Arthur hadn't used the words "second chance," but Merlin knew that's what this was. And he knew that if he screwed it up again, there would not be a third.

And so he did not use magic to investigate when Elyan saw something strange. He reined his magic in, although an annoyed huff escaped him before he could stop it. He saw Arthur glance at him out of the corner of his eye, but the king ignored him.

"You're right," Arthur said, peering in the direction Elyan was looking. "It's too…bright." He jumped down from his horse, and Merlin followed as he made his way through the trees.

Merlin blinked as they stepped into bright sunlight a several yards later, then sucked in a sharp breath as he took in the view before him.

They were at the edge of a clearing, but not a natural clearing. It was filled with the charred remnants of trees and bushes. Ash fluttered in the air above the ground, and some of it had already settled on Arthur, making him look faded and gray.

"I guess we're on the right track," Arthur said tightly.

"Either this beast is much larger than I was expecting, or his fire has one hell of a range," Gwaine said beside Merlin, stepping out into the clearing.

"And it burns hot," Leon added. "I don't think even the Great Dragon burned things so completely. He at least left the skeletons of trees behind."

Merlin eyed the clearing apprehensively. He knew he was only here on this quest – or out of the dungeons at all – because Arthur expected him to be able to defeat the creature using his magic. This was his chance to prove magic could be used for good. The night before, Gaius had told him everything he knew about the maera, but it didn't amount to much. Merlin could try to use the same spell on the knights' swords that he had used on Lancelot's spear to kill the griffin all those years ago, but he wasn't sure that would work.

In addition to that, Merlin knew he wasn't at the top of his game. He's eaten some the night before at Arthur's insistence, and he'd had a small breakfast that morning at Gaius's, but the fact remained that he'd had very little food, water, or sleep for the past week. He was tired and weak.

"All right," Arthur said, turning back towards the road. "Let's get the horses and try to follow its trail from here.

It didn't take long for Arthur to find tracks at the far edge of the clearing. The creature was large enough that it did quite a bit of damage moving through the forest.

"These are the tracks for it coming into the clearing," Arthur said, puzzled. "But I don't see any tracks for it leaving." They searched a few more minutes, but came up dry. With no other lead to act on, the group followed the tracks to find out where the creature had come from.

Merlin was okay with that. He really hoped they wouldn't find it just yet. He wanted at least one more night of sleep before they faced it.

"So," Arthur asked quietly as they made their way through the forest, "is there a problem?" Merlin looked at him in confusion. "Back on the road, when Elyan pointed out the clearing. You looked irritated."

Merlin swallowed. "No. I was fine."

They rode for a moment in silence.

"Is that a lie?"

Merlin opened his mouth to deny it, but then stopped to think. "I…didn't intend it to be?" he said uncertainly. "I was a bit annoyed, that was all. But I didn't think it was worth mentioning. I wouldn't call it a problem."

"I see. And why were you annoyed?"

Merlin couldn't help scowling a little, although he tried to neutralize it as soon as he realized it. "My instincts in those kinds of situations are to…" he glanced around. The other knights didn't appear to be paying attention, but he wasn't entirely sure they couldn't hear him. "…to help," he finished, giving Arthur a meaningful look. "I had to stop myself from helping. It was frustrating."

Arthur gazed at him curiously. "How could you have helped?"

"You know how," Merlin said.

"No, I mean, specifically, what could you have possibly done?"

Merlin glanced around again and nudged his horse slightly closer to Arthur's. "I might feel or see things you wouldn't," he explained quietly. "I guess it wouldn't have helped all that much this time, since there wasn't an immediate danger and the explanation was pretty clear once we saw the clearing. But sometimes it's helpful." He shrugged. "Mostly it was just annoying not to do it."

Arthur was silent for a minute, and Merlin couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Would it maybe be," he finally said slowly, "like riding into an uneasy situation and realizing I didn't have my sword?"

Merlin smiled in surprise. "Well…yes, actually. I imagine it might be a lot like that."

Arthur nodded. "I understand, then."

The smile stayed with Merlin. Just hearing Arthur say the words 'I understand' about anything having to do with Merlin's magic felt…surreal. And it made him feel hopeful.

But the smile disappeared when the trail they'd been following suddenly came to an end.

Arthur muttered something under his breath, and Merlin heard Gwaine swear behind him as they all stared in shock at the smoldering village before them.


	6. Chapter 6

"The nightmares started about a week and a half ago, I suppose," Alena said. "My son, Kelson, was the first to have them. No one thought anything of it at the time; sometimes six-year-olds have nightmares. It was hardly anything to note. But then…" the woman took a deep breath, the fear clear in her eyes.

"It's all right," Arthur said, making a point to keep his voice gentle. "Take your time."

He and Merlin were sitting with Alena in one of the undamaged homes. Outside, the knights were helping the villagers put out the few remaining fires.

"Then my friend Lois," Alena gestured to the woman sitting beside her, "said that her husband, Theald, was having nightmares, and then another neighbor mentioned that she was having them too. I guess there were four or five people total who were having them in the end."

"What were the nightmares?" Arthur asked, dreading the answer.

"There was a monster," a small voice said from the doorway, and Arthur turned to see a child standing there, eyes wide with fear. His face was pale, and he had dark shadows under his eyes. Alena opened her arms and the child scrambled over to her, climbing into her lap. He huddled there, eyeing Arthur nervously.

"Kelson, this is King Arthur," Alena said comfortingly. "He came to help."

"You're going to fight the monster?" Kelson asked uncertainly.

"I am," Arthur said, forcing a quiet confidence into his voice in a way that he hoped was reassuring. "Can you tell me about what you saw in your nightmare, Kelson?" Kelson's eyes got wider and he drew even deeper into his mother. "I know it's scary," Arthur said. "You'd have to be brave to tell me, like a knight."

Kelson glanced toward the door, undoubtedly thinking about the knights outside. Then he turned back to Arthur. "It was black," he whispered. "It scratched me with its claws and it burned me with its fire."

It was hardly a poetic or terrifying description, but Arthur didn't need it to be colorful or detailed to understand the horror that accompanied it.

"That's helpful. Thank you, Kelson. You are very brave."

The boy smiled shyly and turned his face into his mother's chest. Arthur shifted his attention back to Alena.

"What happened next?"

"It was just the dreams until last night," she said, then she shuddered. "In the middle of the night last night, I heard screaming. From outside…" she trailed off and looked at her friend. Lois was pale, her hands trembling on her lap.

"I woke up when I smelled the smoke," Lois whispered. "I got up, and then I turned to shake Theald. Our babies are all grown now, so it's just me and him. But when I saw him…he was covered in blood. I don't know where he was hurt, because his body was soaked in it. I grabbed his arms and tried to drag him out of the burning house, but…" she broke off, her whole body shaking now, and Alena put a comforting arm around her.

"She passed out from the smoke," Alena whispered. "But her screams woke the neighbors. Her son lives next door, and he went in and pulled her out. Theald was…it was too late for him."

Lois buried her head in her hands.

"By the time I got outside," Alena continued the story, "there were two houses on fire in addition to Lois's, and there was a…" she looked down sympathetically at her son. "There was a monster. It had multiple heads and sharp claws, and it breathed fire. Some of the men tried to attack it. They chased it into the woods, but those who didn't burn were met with his claws. Six men died in total, although we have a number of others who were wounded or burned."

"How did you get rid of it?" Arthur asked, and Alena shook her head.

"We didn't. When the sun came up, it just disappeared."

Arthur nodded and took a quick inventory of his expression. He made sure it looked calm and confident. "Anything else you can think of that we need to know?"

"No," Alena replied softly. "Do you truly think you can kill it, my lord?"

Arthur smiled at her. "Of course we can."

* * *

Merlin saw straight through Arthur's smile. There was a tugging around his eyes and a stiffness to his jaw that meant he was lying. He was worried.

So was Merlin.

What bothered him most was the unpredictability. They couldn't track the beast. They couldn't lure it anywhere. It could pop out of a dream at any time. At least none of the knights had complained of nightmares, to his knowledge. Hopefully that meant they had some time before they were at risk themselves.

"Arthur," Merlin said in a low voice as they left Alena's house. "I'd like to see what I can do to help treat the injured."

Arthur nodded. "Do it. But Merlin," he added as Merlin walked away, "remember the rules."

Merlin met his eye and nodded.

_No magic._

Most of the injuries were simple, and required little more than cleaning and bandaging. In fact, after the third patient, Merlin was surprised at how minimal the damage seemed to be. It wasn't until the fourth patient that he understood why.

The man had a sizeable gash on his arm and a number of burns, the result of a wall collapsing in one of the burning houses. But something about the wounds wasn't quite right. There wasn't as much inflammation as there should be. The wound looked just a little bit too healed.

Merlin wasn't trying to use magic, but he couldn't help sensing it. There was magic in the man's body. Not his own, but something working its way through his injuries, speeding the healing process.

Merlin felt the same thing on nearly every patient he saw. Each injury wasn't quite as bad as it should be, and each one had a thread of magic in it, helping it to heal.

* * *

"Do you think it will come back tonight?" Elyan asked around a mouthful of stew.

"I don't know," Arthur admitted. "The reports didn't mention whether the attacks only occurred once in each village or if they occurred multiple nights in a row." He hesitated for a moment, then made the confession he had been dreading. "I've had the nightmares," he admitted. "Several times over the past week."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Leon asked, eyes wide with horror.

"I thought they were just nightmares." Arthur shrugged. "But they match what I heard described today."

Glancing up, he caught the look on Merlin's face. Unlike the knights, who all looked concerned or nervous, Merlin's eyes were blazing. He looked angry and determined. Despite himself, he felt a pang of gratitude that Merlin was with them. He had a feeling they could all use his obnoxious optimism.

"You all set up camp here," Arthur said, glancing around the small clearing just outside the village. The villagers had insisted on providing the king and his knights with beds and shelter, but Arthur was unwilling to impose on them in the current circumstances. Homes had burned and people were injured; others needed the beds more than he and his men did.

"What do you mean, 'you all'?" Elyan asked with a frown.

"I'm going to set up about a hundred yards that way," Arthur replied, pointing. "In case," he hesitated, trying to phrase it gently. "In case the maera is born out of my nightmare tonight. I don't want it to appear right in the midst of you."

"Don't be ridiculous," Leon scoffed.

"You're the king, Arthur," Elyan said. "It's our job to keep you safe. We can't do that if we're not with you."

"There's no point putting you in danger unnecessarily," Arthur argued. "I can't risk it wiping us all out before we even have a chance to fight it. We're the best shot Camelot has at getting rid of this thing, and it doesn't make sense to jeopardize that for my safety."

"We'll take the risk," Percival insisted. "If the maera appears, we'll deal with it."

"I will not endanger Camelot's safety to protect my own," Arthur insisted stubbornly. "I will sleep over there. You will stay here. That's an order." He said it with as much finality as he could, and although he could tell they weren't happy, the four knights didn't argue further.

It felt a little bit strange as he laid down by himself. The knights were near, but he felt disconcertingly isolated and vulnerable.

Which might be why he jumped so high when he heard footsteps approaching him. Fortunately, he composed himself before Merlin came into view.

"What part of 'you stay here' did you not understand, Merlin?" he asked wearily.

"I need to talk to you. About a couple of things, actually." Arthur thought Merlin looked nervous, but it was hard to tell for sure in the dark. And Merlin hadn't entirely _stopped_ looking nervous since he'd been freed from the dungeons.

Arthur sighed. "What is it?"

Merlin sat down a few feet away, hunched over with one arm wrapped tightly around his torso. It was, Arthur noted, a posture that Merlin had adopted several times that day.

 _His ribs_ , Arthur realized suddenly, and felt a pang of guilt.

Merlin fidgeted for a moment before blurting out, "I sensed something today. I didn't do magic, I promise. It just kind of happened."

Arthur sat up. "Sensed something? From the maera?"

Merlin shook his head. "No." He took a deep breath, opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

"Spit it out, Merlin."

Merlin grimaced. "For the record, I really, really don't want to tell you this. But I said I wouldn't keep secrets from you, and I'm not going to. Just…" he sighed. "Just don't hurt anyone who doesn't need to be hurt, okay?"

"Excuse me?" Arthur blanched. "I'm not in the habit of hurting people for the fun of it." He regretted the words as soon as he said them; Merlin's bruises were still visible in the moonlight. Of course, he hadn't inflicted them for fun, but one could certainly argue they'd been unnecessary.

"I know," Merlin said hurriedly. "It's just…there's someone here with magic. In the village. They don't know much about how to properly clean and bandage wounds, but he – or she – knows how to use magic to treat them. I could sense the magic in the people I treated today, working to help them heal."

So Merlin not only had magic; he could sense magic in others. Interesting.

"Who is it?" Arthur asked.

"I don't know. I kind of made a point of not trying to figure it out, to be honest with you." Merlin fidgeted nervously. "They're just trying to help, Arthur. They're not using it to hurt people. And normally I wouldn't even dream of saying anything about it, because there's no reason for this person to suffer just because they helped people. But I agreed to no secrets. And this is me not keeping secrets."

Arthur took a minute to process this. Someone was doing magic. Which was illegal, not to mention evil and corrupting. But they were using it to provide healing to their neighbors in the aftermath of a tragedy, and even Arthur could acknowledge that it seemed unfair to punish them for that.

"We're not here to chase down locals who have a little bit of magic," he said finally. "We're here to stop the maera. We'll keep focused on our priorities."

He saw some of the tension drain out of Merlin. "Thank you."

Arthur nodded. "What was the second thing?"

Merlin immediately tensed again.

"I'd like permission," he said uneasily. "The maera could appear tonight. I'd like to enchant your swords. All of you. I don't know if the enchantment will work, but I can at least try."

"No," Arthur said immediately. "I will not even consider having you do magic unless it's absolutely necessary, and it's not necessary yet. We can beat the maera without it."

"If you believed that, you wouldn't have brought me along," Merlin pointed out quietly.

Arthur didn't respond immediately. Merlin was right. But even knowing that, he couldn't bring himself to cave and let Merlin do magic just yet. It was literally his first day out of the dungeons. Arthur felt like if he let him do magic this soon, it would be like saying that magic was okay. That he and Merlin were okay. And Arthur wasn't quite ready to move on yet; he still hadn't decided for sure that they _would_ move on as opposed to Arthur trying Merlin for his crimes and punishing him.

"How about a compromise," Merlin suggested after a long silence. "What if I just enchant your sword, and you give me permission to enchant the others' swords during the battle if it looks like you're losing?"

Arthur shook his head, "I'm not going to have you enchant my sword and not the others." He would not afford himself protection that he refused to grant to his men. And he had to admit, the magic would offer some protection. He made a face, hoping that the night was dark enough that Merlin couldn't see it. "But I'll agree to the second part. If we fight the maera and it looks like we're losing, you can enchant the weapons then." He glanced sideways at Merlin. "You can do that? Enchant a sword mid-fight?"

It was hard to tell in the dark, but he was pretty sure Merlin smiled. "Yes, Arthur. I can do that."

Arthur was impressed despite himself. It wouldn't do for Merlin to know that though, so all he said was, "Huh."

"It might give it away though. They might see me doing the enchantment, or they might feel the magic. If I enchanted them tonight while everyone was asleep, there wouldn't be that risk.

"We'll take the risk," Arthur said firmly. "No magic unless it's absolutely necessary. Now you should get some sleep. I should too. If the maera returns tonight, we might not have time for much sleep before the fight."

Merlin nodded. "Goodnight, Arthur."

Arthur laid back down, trying to get comfortable on the hard ground. "Goodnight."

It took Arthur a moment to realize that he didn't hear Merlin leaving. Opening his eyes again, he looked over and saw his servant trying to get situated on his own piece of ground.

"Merlin." It came out as an exasperated sigh. "Go back with the knights."

Merlin didn't say anything, but he didn't move either.

"What part of 'that's an order' was unclear to you? I'm the king. I'm telling you to leave."

"You need someone nearby to protect you," Merlin said matter-of-factly. "If you won't let the knights do it, that leaves me."

"Have you lost your mind?" Arthur asked, irritated. "After the past week, you would disobey a direct order from me?"

"I'm not lying or keeping a secret," Merlin pointed out.

Arthur stared at him incredulously through the dark, and then finally laughed. He almost said, 'You really are an idiot, aren't you?' but stopped the words before they could roll off his tongue. It would have been too much like a joke. Too much like their normal banter.

He reminded himself that the man beside him, as familiar as he might seem, was in many ways still a stranger. This was a man who had lied to him and betrayed him. And if he couldn't trust him, he didn't want to joke with him.

But he couldn't deny, it was a comforting piece of normalcy to have Merlin near.

So Arthur didn't say anything.


	7. Chapter 7

Merlin awoke to screaming.

There was no moment of disorientation, no wondering where he was. The moment his eyes flew open, he was searching, ready to protect Arthur from the maera.

Next to him, he saw the king spring to his feet and grab his sword as he sprinted towards the village.

The maera had come, but it hadn't come from Arthur.

Merlin ran after him, stumbling once or twice over roots, but within seconds he could see the flames ahead of him.

Alena's house was on fire. Merlin felt his magic rise up within him; he could summon a rain storm or pull life from the fire.

Except he couldn't. He had promised. If the fire was endangering someone, he could, but he spotted Alena and Kelson huddling in the shelter of another house.

"Stand back!" he heard Arthur yell to the villagers. "Let us handle it!"

Merlin looked in the direction of the sound, and he felt himself go cold at what he saw. Arthur and the knights were surrounding a huge creature.

If this is what Kelson saw in his dreams, he was right to call it a monster.

It was easily more than twice Arthur's height, and in the light of the fire, Merlin could see the muscles rippling under its sleek fur. It had multiple heads, fire and teeth flashing in the night. The lion's mouth roared while the dragon's head reached for its prey, teeth closing mere inches from Percival's head.

The knight dodged, bringing his sword up and stabbing the dragon in the throat. The dragon jerked back, taking the sword with it, and all three heads shrieked in anger. The dragon shook his head angrily, and the sword clattered back to the ground.

Leon tried to take advantage of the distraction to go for the lion's head, but even as the dragon was freeing itself from the sword, one enormous paw reached out and swiped Leon to the side as though he were no more than a kitten's play toy. Merlin saw the knight fly through the air and then crumple to the ground, unmoving.

The goat's mouth let out a roar of fire, forcing the other knights back and catching Elyan on the side. He screamed, then lunged through the fire and drove his sword into the creature's belly. The maera turned and snapped at him with the lion's mouth, and Elyan stumbled backwards, wincing in pain as he landed on the burned side. He rose again, but he was limping and he had no sword.

Merlin felt it was safe to say they were losing.

He ducked behind a wagon where he was unlikely to be seen, then focused his attention on Arthur's sword. " _Bregdan anweald gafeluec!_ "

He felt the magic fly into Arthur's sword and saw the telltale glow. If Arthur noticed anything, he didn't show it, and Merlin was relieved that his magic hadn't distracted Arthur from the fight. He repeated the spell on the other swords, but it seemed to make no difference. The knights successfully landed blow after blow, but the wounds didn't seem to faze the beast.

" _Ástríce!_ " Merlin whispered, trying to stun the maera, but the spell had no effect. He quickly began making his way through most of the battle spells he knew, and once or twice he thought the creature might have briefly faltered in response, but it didn't help. Even when it hesitated and Arthur landed a blow straight through his chest from the right and Percival landed a blow through one of its throats at the same time, the creature still shook them off as though the wounds were nothing more than scratches.

As the fight continued on, Merlin began to feel truly frightened. The creature seemed unharmable, and it occurred to him that it might actually kill most – or all – of the knights before the battle was over. He could see Arthur and the others weakening, their movements becoming sluggish, their reflexes delayed, and his spells seemed to help little, if at all.

Merlin himself was growing tired and worn. His week of no food and little sleep was catching up with him, and he had poured out copious amounts of magic in his attempts to help.

And so he was too slow to save Arthur.

The lion's paw found him, forcing the king to stumble backwards and fall, not for the first time that night. But this time, the dragon's head turned to see where he landed. Merlin saw the dragon pull back, then dive into the strike.

Then, with the dragon just inches from Arthur, the creature stopped. All three heads whipped around to look east, and the beast faded into smoke.

Through the smoke, Merlin could see the rising sun.

* * *

Arthur couldn't help but close his eyes as he saw the dragon's head coming at him.

So this was how it ended. At least he was going out fighting, his knights by his side. That thought would be more comforting if he felt the sacrifice had a purpose in it, but he knew they were losing this fight. Leon was most likely already dead, and after Arthur died, the creature would kill the rest of the knights. And then it would move on to the rest of the village. And then on to the rest of Camelot.

Arthur had failed his people.

And, it occurred to him, Merlin would always believe that Arthur hated him for what he had done. Arthur had never even thanked him for the times he had saved his life.

And then Arthur realized that he had an awful lot of time for thinking. And things had gone strangely quiet. Cautiously, he opened his eyes.

The creature was gone. The sun was rising. Villagers were poking their heads out from their hiding places, watching the king and his knights find their way to their feet.

Elyan was burned and hobbling, but he was alive. Gwaine and Percival both looked exhausted and battered, but they were on their feet.

Leon. Leon had taken a blow early, and Arthur had not seen him since. He was a brave and determined warrior; if he hadn't returned to the fight, Arthur knew what that probably meant.

Looking around, he spotted the body several yards behind him, near the tree line. He hurried over, turning Leon onto his back. To Arthur's surprise and relief, his chest was moving. Somehow, he was still alive. But his mangled chainmail was red with blood, and his face was pale.

"We need to get the armor off," he heard a low voice say behind him, and he turned to see Merlin. "I need to see his injuries."

Arthur helped him wrestle Leon out of the armor, at which point the injuries were fairly obvious. His shirt had four slashes through it and was soaked in blood.

"It must have gotten a direct hit with its claws," Merlin muttered as he set about removing the shirt.

Arthur stood up, unsurprised to find the other knights behind him. "Gwaine, Percival, go talk to the villagers. Try to calm them down and put out any fires that are still going. Elyan, go sit down and rest. You're barely staying on your feet."

"Arthur," Merlin murmured once the others had left. "These injuries won't heal."

Arthur closed his eyes. He knew. He had known when he'd seen Leon go flying and not get back up.

But Leon wasn't just another knight; he had served him since before his father's death. The knight was slightly older than Arthur, and the king honestly couldn't remember a time when Leon hadn't been there. He was a true friend, and there was no one Arthur would rather have at his side in battle.

"I can save him." Merlin's voice was barely audible. "If you'll let me."

Arthur froze.

"I've saved all of you before, more times than I can count. It's nothing new. Nothing that you haven't gone through yourself a dozen times. Or a few dozen times."

Merlin had healed them with magic. Of course he had. It was obvious, now that Arthur thought about it. How many times had one of them had an injury that seemed life-threatening at first glance, only to have Merlin examine them and declare it to be a minor thing that would heal on its own?

"Arthur, please." Merlin knelt beside Leon, his eyes fixed on the knight. "He's my friend too." His voice shook. "He was kind to me. Please don't ask me to let him die when I can save him."

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment. Of course he was going to let Merlin save Leon. Why even pretend like it was worth deliberating?

"Do it," he said shortly.

"Keep an eye out," Merlin instructed. Arthur moved around to the other side so that he could see over Leon and Merlin to the village beyond. That way he could spot anyone approaching them.

Merlin let his hands hover over Leon's chest. Arthur ordered himself to look away; he didn't want to see this side of Merlin. But despite himself, he glanced down as Merlin murmured, " _Ic hæle þina þrowunga._ " Merlin's eyes flashed gold, and Arthur felt the surge of terror he always felt in connection with sorcery. His uneasiness increased as he imagined Merlin speaking those same words over him, his eyes blazing as magic flowed into Arthur's body.

Merlin closed his eyes for a moment, hands still hovering, then he lowered his hands and lifted his head to look at Arthur.

"He's still in rough shape, but he should live. With any luck, he should wake within the next few hours. He'll be in pain, but if you'll let me keep treating him, I should be able to minimize the pain and speed up the healing."

Arthur nodded. Then, unbidden, the thought that had been building up inside spilled out of him. "This never would have happened if I'd just let you enchant the swords," he said brokenly.

To his surprise, Merlin shook his head. "I enchanted all of the swords after Leon fell. I did everything I could think of to do. You said I could, if lives were in danger. But it didn't matter, Arthur. The creature was too strong." Guilt crept into Merlin's voice. "My magic made no difference."

Arthur was stunned. "You did magic?"

Merlin's head snapped up to look at him. "You said I could, to save someone's life!" His voice has an almost desperate edge to it, and Arthur held up a hand to calm him.

"It's fine. I'm just surprised, I guess. I thought…I thought if you used magic, we would win. That was my last resort. But we still lost. So I guess the last resort failed." Arthur felt despair settling in on him. What would happen when the maera returned? Was it truly unbeatable?

"I should go check on the villagers, and then we all need to meet to come up with a plan. You stay with Leon. I'll send the others to move him." He took a couple of steps away, then turned back. He knew he had to say it, even though the words stuck in his throat.

"Thank you."

* * *

"Did we even manage to slow it down?" Leon asked, cringing as he tried to get comfortable sitting up in bed.

"No," Elyan blurted, irritated. "We fought it for hours, and all we accomplished was getting a variety of burns and bruises."

The party was packed into a small house, seated on chairs and on the floor near Leon's bed. A kind townsperson had offered their home, and given the severity of Leon's injuries, Arthur had accepted this time.

"We got some good blows in," Gwaine said. "A number of them, in fact. It just didn't seem to matter. It was like the creature never even felt pain, much less noticed any damage."

"We can't beat it with just swords," Arthur admitted quietly. "Gaius warned me that was a possibility, although I hoped he was wrong."

Percival raised his eyebrows. "Did Gaius say what would work, if swords wouldn't?"

"Something called the Ainthia. It's supposed to be hidden in the Valley of the Fallen Kings," Arthur explained reluctantly, clenching and unclenching his hand. A long night of fighting had reawakened his injuries from the previous week. "It's a form of magic."

The knights took a moment to process that. Leon spoke first.

"The Cup of Life saved my life once, so I cannot believe all magic is evil. I _do_ believe that creature is evil, so if magic will allow us to defeat it, then I'm in favor of taking that step." The others nodded in agreement.

"I don't like the idea of using magic," Percival admitted, "but right now, I see no other choice."

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw a slight smile on Merlin's face.

"I agree," Arthur said with an unhappy sigh. "We rest tonight. Tomorrow morning, we leave for the Valley of the Fallen Kings."

"What happens if it attacks again tonight?" Elyan asked soberly.

"Then we fight it again."

_And we hope we can survive until dawn._


	8. Chapter 8

Much to the irritation of the knights, Arthur insisted on sleeping outside again while the others stayed in the house. And much to Arthur's irritation, Merlin once again insisted on following him.

"You _do_ know I'm the king, right Merlin?" Arthur asked crossly as they made their way to the tree line.

"I do," Merlin answered immediately. "And as king, your survival is essential. And I'm just a servant, so I'm kind of expendable, really. If I save your life, it's an enormous gain, and if I die, it's a small loss."

Arthur scowled into the darkness. "You truly have no sense of self-preservation, do you?" Next to him, Merlin's outline shrugged in the dark.

Arthur sighed, but decided it wasn't worth the fight. Especially because they had something more important to talk about.

"Merlin," Arthur asked hesitantly once they'd settled in for the night. "What did Gaius tell you about the Ainthia?"

"Not much," Merlin admitted. "Just that it would allow me to fight the maera from within the nightmare instead of fighting it in the physical world."

So he knew. Arthur felt he should be relieved, but instead he found himself annoyed with Merlin for just accepting it.

"I'm not sure if it will work for anyone but you," Arthur pressed. He needed to be sure Merlin understood. "Gaius said it needed to be a sorcerer. If we try to do this with the Ainthia…Merlin, it means you may be the one to fight it. And you might have to do it alone."

"I know." Merlin sounded entirely unfazed. "And not 'maybe.' It will have to be me."

"I can't ask you to do that. To go against that monster by yourself." Arthur rubbed a hand over his face wearily. "But I also can't _not_ ask you to do it when it's the only chance Camelot has."

"Arthur, I knew when we left that I would most likely have to fight the maera before this was over." There was a smile in Merlin's voice that annoyed Arthur even more. "It's not the first time I've had to stand alone with my magic to protect Camelot. It will be fine."

"It should be me," Arthur insisted futilely. "If someone has to face it alone, it should be me."

"Unfortunately, I think you'd probably be rubbish at magic, even if you tried. I'm afraid you're stuck with me. Now stop worrying about it."

"Merlin, you saw that thing. You saw what it can do."

Merlin sighed. "I know you don't really know this, but magic is the one thing is this world that I'm actually good at. Honestly, your lack of faith in me is starting to hurt my feelings."

Merlin said it as a joke, but the words struck a nerve. "Now you know how it feels," Arthur answered bitterly.

Merlin didn't respond. Arthur knew it had been a low blow, and unprovoked. But he couldn't bring himself to apologize.

He laid awake for a long time, listening to the silence and ignoring the guilt in his stomach. He couldn't help but notice the absence of Merlin's snores. Eventually, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

When he awoke a few hours later, his first thought was that the maera had come back. But after a moment, he realized there was no screaming, no smell of smoke beyond what had already lingered in the air the night before. No, what had woken him was rustling in the trees. Sitting up, he looked over and realized Merlin was gone.

He could hear more movement in the trees, and now that he was more awake, he recognized the sound of a clumsy servant moving noisily through the forest. But where on earth could he be going? Arthur considered ignoring it and going back to sleep, but given all of Merlin's secrets and lies, his curiosity got the better of him.

He followed the trail of noise, doing his best to stay quiet so Merlin wouldn't realize he was being followed. And several minutes later, he found himself at the edge of the burned clearing. Merlin stood in the center, staring up at the sky, and cried, " _O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!_ "

The cry was guttural, and Arthur felt the magic in it. Immediately, he felt a surge of rage in his chest. It had only taken Merlin two days to perform magic without Arthur's permission, despite giving his word. Arthur was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, trying to trust him. But Merlin was still lying. Still keeping secrets.

Except maybe he wasn't doing magic, Arthur realized, because nothing was happening. Merlin was just standing there, his arm wrapped around his torso, staring at the sky as though he were waiting for something.

And then Arthur heard a sound he had heard before. A sound that filled him with terror and horrifying memories; he felt the emotions before he actually placed the noise. And no sooner had he thought the word 'dragon' than the Great Dragon himself landed in the clearing.

The Great Dragon that, according to Merlin, Arthur had killed.

"Greetings, young warlock." The dragon's voice made the ground under Arthur's feet rumble.

"I need your help," Merlin said to the creature, appearing completely at ease in the presence of the dragon.

"Someday, Merlin, perhaps we will have a conversation that begins differently." Unless Arthur was mistaken, there was dry humor in the dragon's voice.

Merlin ignored the jibe. "There's a creature. A maera. Arthur and the knights fought it last night, and they cannot defeat it. Do you know of it?"

"Hmm," the dragon said, nodding. "It is a creature of old magic, and dark magic. It can only be defeated in battle by a blade created from iron mined from the land of Avalon and blessed by a high priest of the Old Religion."

"Great," Merlin replied irritably. "Where might we find such a blade?"

"I do not know. As far as I know, all such blades are lost. Without one, your only option is to fight it within the dream instead of trying to battle its physical form. But even this you cannot do without the Summoner of Nightmares."

"The Ainthia."

"Indeed," the dragon said with a solemn nod.

"Gaius mentioned it and said it's in the Valley of the Fallen Kings. We're going there tomorrow, but we don't know what we're looking for or where it is."

"If you are searching for it, it will call to you."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "That's helpful. Thanks. What _is_ it? How do I use it?"

"You will know when the time comes," the dragon said cryptically, prompting Merlin to scowl. "But beware, Merlin; the Ainthia has its own powerful magic, and should be treated with caution. Now, why don't you tell me of the other reason for your summons?"

Merlin looked startled. "Other reason?"

"Something troubles you. You are different." The dragon peered down at him closely. "And not just because you are injured. What happened?"

Merlin sighed. "Arthur found out I have magic."

The dragon visibly perked up. "Congratulations. That is big news indeed! You have long awaited this moment."

"Don't congratulate me yet," Merlin said dryly. "He's furious with me."

"Give him time, young warlock. You are entering into a new era with the young king. This is a new beginning, and that is worth celebrating."

Merlin managed a small smile. "Thank you. It's…it's nice to see someone who knows me for what I really am and doesn't hate me for it." Merlin cringed as the words came out of his mouth, as though he could hear how pitiful they sounded spoken aloud.

"King Arthur does not hate you," the dragon corrected him gently.

"You don't know that."

"But I do. Your destinies are still intertwined. You are still two sides of the same coin. Give him time." The dragon smiled again. "Perhaps you could introduce us."

Merlin made a face. "I'm not sure introductions are a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because," Merlin said flatly, "you attacked Camelot and killed a lot of innocent people."

"My vengeance was against Uther. I have no quarrel with Arthur. Besides, he is hiding in the trees listening to us speak, so we may as well meet."

Merlin's eyes went wide in the moonlight, and Arthur heard him swear under his breath.

"Come out, young Pendragon," the dragon ordered. "I have only seen you from a distance, and I am curious."

Having spent the previous night fighting one magical creature, Arthur was not keen on meeting another, but he didn't have much of a choice. Reluctantly, he stepped into the clearing.

"Arthur Pendragon," the dragon said thoughtfully, studying Arthur with an eye nearly as big as Arthur was tall.

"Arthur, this is Kilgharrah." Merlin introduced him nervously, and the dragon dipped its head in what might be considered a bow.

"Hello," Arthur replied cautiously. What did one say to the dragon who had almost destroyed his kingdom? He'd been trained on how to behave in countless social situations, but this was not one of them.

"It is an honor to finally meet the Once and Future King. Your mighty deeds have been known since ages past. You have a great destiny, as long as you keep to the path of who you are meant to be."

Arthur stared blankly at the dragon. "What does that mean? What path?"

"That," the dragon said gently, "you must find for yourself."

Then, without warning, the dragon took to the sky again, and within seconds it disappeared into the darkness.

Arthur turned to look at Merlin. "I have no idea what he just said. My deeds are known since ages past?"

"Yes." Merlin turned tiredly back towards the village. "He does that." He watched Arthur nervously for a moment as they walked. "I wasn't lying or keeping a secret. I didn't even think about speaking with Kilgharrah about the maera until after you were asleep, and I was going to tell you about it tomorrow."

"You used magic to call him," Arthur pointed out.

"That's not magic," Merlin argued. "That's just dragonlord power."

That caught Arthur's attention. "So you're a dragonlord too?" Merlin nodded. "Then why on earth didn't you stop him back when he attacked Camelot?" he cried, equal parts exasperated and angry.

"I wasn't a dragonlord yet," Merlin explained. "The son doesn't inherit the gift until the death of the father. I sent the dragon away as soon as I was able."

"So you weren't a dragonlord when it first attacked," Arthur said, trying to put it together, "but you were when it attacked the final time?" Then the pieces clicked. "Balinor."

"Yes." Merlin's voice was subdued. "It was the first time I'd met him. I didn't even know who my father was until Gaius told me right before we left."

"That's why you were so moody on that trip," Arthur realized. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Merlin let out a snort. "Your father would not have responded favorably to you having the son of a dragonlord as a servant."

Arthur opened his mouth to argue that it wouldn't have mattered, but Merlin had a point. "I wouldn't have told my father," he protested instead.

"I wouldn't have asked that of you," Merlin answered softly.

Another memory hit Arthur. "I told you not to cry for him," he remembered, stricken. "Merlin, I never would have said that had I realized it was your father!"

"I know." In the moonlight, Arthur saw him smile. "And I knew it then. You tried to comfort me by treating me as a knight, Arthur. I was honored by what you intended to do, even if you missed the mark."

Before Arthur could reply, a scream broke the air. In an instant, he had his sword out and was sprinting back towards the village.

The scene before him was similar to the night before, with a few key differences. Leon wasn't there. The knights moved wearily; he could tell by the way they fought that they were fighting without hope. The villagers looked more fatigued and despairing than afraid.

As Arthur charged into the battle, he heard a voice yell from the trees, " _O drakon, fthengomai au se kalon su katerkheo deuro!_ "

Moments later, the shape of the Great Dragon filled the sky again. The townspeople and the knights all scattered as the dragon landed facing the maera.

The maera, which had looked so fearsome before, wasn't half the size of the dragon, and when Kilgharrah roared, the maera drew back. But then it shook itself and began pacing, trying to circle the dragon. It lunged, swiping at Kilgharrah, and the dragon's tail whipped around and slammed into it, sending it flying.

The fight was on.

Arthur flew to the forest where a number of the villagers and a couple of the knights had taken cover, peering through the trees to watch the battle.

Neither beast could get the best of the other; Kilgharrah was too strong and too large for the maera to land more than glancing blows. Fire, Kilgharrah's main weapon, was useless against another creature that breathed fire, but the strength of his tail and claws enabled him to strike again and again, beating and slicing the creature. But just as with the knights, the maera did not seem to feel or notice the wounds inflicted by the dragon.

Finally, the maera pulled back, all three heads roaring in frustration. Then it turned and fled.

The dragon turned to look at the trees for a moment, and then took to the air and was gone.

The people slowly edged their way back towards the houses, glancing at each other uncertainly. Arthur held back until he spotted his servant in the crowd. Grabbing Merlin's arm, he pulled him aside.

"Did you do that?" he demanded, knowing the answer.

"Of course." Merlin looked surprised at the question. "I knew he was near, and I was pretty sure we couldn't survive another night like last night."

Arthur ran his hand through his hair and nodded. He wanted to yell at Merlin for intervening with magic – because despite what Merlin said, Arthur certainly considered his dragonlord abilities to be a form of magic – but Merlin was right. If Kilgharrah hadn't shown up, lives would have been lost. Possibly all of the knights', based on the night before.

"Come on," he said, turning to follow the crowd. "We can't afford to wait any longer. We need to get to the Valley of the Fallen Kings."


	9. Chapter 9

They left at dawn. Arthur had argued against waiting even that long, but Percival had reasonably pointed out the maera might still be in the forest, and it wouldn't do them any good to be forced back into another fight with it.

Merlin checked Leon's wounds one more time before they left. Arthur listened as he expressed surprised delight at how well they were healing, and he saw the relief on Leon's face.

Merlin was acting, of course. He could see that now. The wounds were healing much faster than they should, so as the stand-in physician, Merlin had to seem surprised. Arthur watched how the knights all smiled at the news, and he wondered how many times Merlin had fooled him the same way.

Leon's injuries required them to travel slowly, and more than once, Arthur considered having one of the knights accompany Leon back to Camelot so the rest of the group could move full speed. But every time the suggestion made its way to the tip of his tongue, he held back.

Leon was the only one of the knights who Arthur was absolutely certain was more loyal to him than they would be Merlin, as uncomfortable as that was to admit. Besides, Leon knew more about the current situation between Arthur and Merlin than anyone else. Arthur trusted his loyalty and needed his support right then; the idea of continuing this quest without him was unbearable.

But, Arthur had to admit by that afternoon, watching Leon cringe in pain as he rode was also unbearable.

"Merlin," Arthur asked quietly, dropping back out of earshot of the other knights, "is there anything more you can do for him?"

Merlin followed his gaze and grimaced. "Not without making it obvious that it's magic," he said. "The wounds are already healing at an unbelievable rate. I could lessen his pain, but if I do that, I run the risk of him reopening the wounds because he doesn't have the pain to tell him where his limits are."

Arthur sighed. "You're going to have to tell them. You know that, right?"

Merlin perked up. "Are you serious?"

"Why do you look like that's good news?" Arthur asked, suspicious.

"You said I would have to tell them if you decided to let me stay." Merlin smiled cautiously. "Does this mean you've decided?"

Arthur scowled. He had said that, hadn't he? But all he said now was, "Don't push, Merlin."

"Yes, sire." His face went serious again, but the edges of his mouth still twitched up hopefully.

They reached the Valley of the Fallen Kings shortly before sunset. Arthur stared at the entrance for a long minute before sighing.

"We'll stop here for tonight."

"You don't want to search for the Ainthia right away?" Elyan asked in surprise.

"The Valley of the Fallen Kings has its own dangers," Arthur admitted reluctantly. "It's tempting, but it would be foolish to rush in there in the dark. We don't know what we're looking for or where it is. And the Ainthia aside, we're safer out here than we are in there."

The group ate dinner in relative silence, but afterwards, no one seemed eager to fall asleep. Instead, everyone sat around the fire in uneasy silence, eyeing the dark nervously.

Everyone except for Arthur, who sat by himself off to the side. He knew what had to happen next, but he was dreading it.

"Merlin," he finally suggested, "how about a bedtime story?"

Gwaine snorted. "Bedtime story?"

"Yes," Arthur said tightly. "It turns out Merlin has all kinds of talents we didn't know about. Including telling bedtime stories." He gave his servant a pointed glare.

Merlin looked taken aback, but quickly composed himself. He stared at Arthur for a long moment until Arthur raised an eyebrow expectantly. Merlin swallowed, then gave him a solemn nod.

"Okay. Bedtime story." Merlin rubbed his palms on his knees nervously. He stared into space for a moment thinking, and then he nodded again, this time to himself, and some of the tension seemed to disappear from his shoulders.

"Once there was the son of a dragonlord…"

* * *

"A story," Arthur had said. It had caught Merlin by surprise, but then he was grateful. He had never told this secret before except in answer to Arthur's question, and it would be easier to tell it as a story. He focused his eyes on the flames in front of him and tried to figure out where to start.

"Once there was the son of a dragonlord," Merlin began. "He was born after the Great Purge, when fear of magic was at its height, and anything and anyone associated with magic was killed. The dragonlord loved the boy's mother, so when the armies of Camelot pursued him to put him to death, he fled in order to protect her, not knowing the woman he left behind was expecting a child.

"It did not take long for the mother to realize her son was no ordinary child. Even as a baby, there would be moments when his eyes would flash gold, and the object he wanted would fly across the room to him. The fire would blaze up larger on a cold night. The milk bucket would mysteriously refill itself. The woman feared what this meant for her son, for she knew that if anyone found out, the child would be put to death, regardless of his age or innocence.

"And so from the moment the child was old enough to understand, he heard the same lesson over and over again.

" _You must keep the secret, no matter what._

"The child understood, but struggled to obey. Others found him strange, although they could not tell you why, and for many years, magic was his only friend. So despite the warnings and despite the fear, he used his magic freely and recklessly, keeping his secret only through luck. As he grew, so did his mother's fear. She knew that unless the child could learn to control himself, her son would not live long enough to become a man.

"She knew someone, an old friend who years before had helped the dragonlord whom she had loved. This man knew about magic, but more importantly, he knew about blending in and surviving in a world that hated magic. So she wrote to the man, and he agreed to take the boy in as a ward.

"It was a risky plan, for the man lived in the very heart of the war against magic: in the castle in Camelot. But the mother saw no other option, and so with both fear and hope in her heart, she sent her son away and prayed that she would see him again.

"As the boy walked into Camelot, he saw something that would change his life forever, for two very different reasons.

"In the middle of the courtyard sat a chopping block, the executioner standing ready, guards leading a prisoner to it. And on the balcony stood the king, who declared the prisoner was sentenced to death for the crime of sorcery."

"The boy watched the ax fall. He saw the man's head roll. And for the first time, he understood what it meant that sorcery was punishable by death. For the first time, he understood what his carelessness could lead to. And so his life was changed.

"Then a scream tore through the crowd – the mother of the executed prisoner, overcome with grief. The woman stepped forward, swearing vengeance on the king; a son for a son. And with that vow, the boy's life was to be changed again, although he did not know it yet.

"Shaken by what he had seen, the boy set out again in search of his new guardian. And after asking directions once or twice, someone finally directed him to the quarters of the court physician."

Merlin heard a sharp gasp from someone, although he kept his focus on the fire instead of caving to the temptation to look at his audience's faces.

"The next morning when he awoke, the boy heard a voice calling to him. But before he could go in search of the source, the physician sent him out on an errand with stern instructions to stay out of trouble. Yet despite his best intentions, trouble found him, for within minutes he met the prince of Camelot."

Merlin felt himself smile at the memory, and he had to hold in a laugh. He and Arthur had both been such idiots back then.

"The prince was bullying a servant, and the boy stepped in to stop him. Which is why the boy spent his second night in Camelot in the dungeons."

Merlin heard several snickers from around the fire.

"When he awoke the next morning, he heard a voice calling his name once more. But as before, he was distracted before he could think much about it. He and the prince met again that day, this time in the market. Again, they argued, and this time they fought: a battle with maces. Well, the prince fought with a mace. The boy mostly ran away while holding a mace, using magic to make the prince trip as he pursued him."

"You _cheated!"_ an incredulous voice broke in. Merlin looked up, startled, to see Arthur staring at him in disbelief.

"I used the skills I had at my disposal, just like you," Merlin said loftily before he'd thought it through, prompting laughter from the knights. As the words came out, he prayed that Arthur wasn't genuinely so angry that he couldn't take a joke. Fortunately, Arthur just snapped his mouth shut, scowling. Merlin cleared his throat and continued.

"That night, the boy heard the voice again. This time, he sneaked out and followed it, through the citadel, into a guarded tunnel—"

"How did you get past the guards?" Arthur broke in, indignant, but Merlin ignored the question.

"—and down deep below Camelot. There, he found the one who had called to him: the Great Dragon."

More gasps, which made Merlin smile. Perhaps he wasn't bad at this storytelling thing.

"The Great Dragon looked at the boy and said…" Merlin broke off. He'd gotten ahead of himself, or else he wouldn't have told this part. But now he had started, so he had to finish it. "How small you are for such a great destiny."

The knights roared with laughter at that, but nobody laughed louder than Arthur.

"Stupid dragon," Merlin muttered before starting again. "The boy..." he swallowed, his voice going soft at the memory. "The boy's heart leapt at the mention of 'destiny,' for he had always known he was different, even from others who had magic, and he had always wondered why. He wished, more than anything, for a purpose to his magic.

"But then the dragon told him of the destiny. That the prince would one day be a great king – the Once and Future King – and it was the boy's destiny to help him. To protect him. This was _not_ the destiny the boy had in mind. He said the dragon must be talking about a different prince, because this one was an idiot."

Merlin risked a glance at Arthur. The king was staring at the ground in front of him, but his shoulders shook with a brief chuckle.

"But the dragon insisted that the boy could not escape his destiny. And the next night, there was a royal feast, with a renowned singer for entertainment. The physician was able to get the boy a job working as an attendant for the evening, so the boy was present when the singer began to cast a spell on the room, putting the guests to sleep. He used his magic to drop a chandelier on the woman, who was in fact the mother of the executed prisoner in disguise. The enchantment broke when the woman fell, but before she drew her last breath, she flung a dagger at the chest of the prince.

"The boy saw what was happening, and used his magic to slow time so that he could grab the prince and pull him out of harm's way. And so he saved the prince's life for the first time. And in gratitude, the king awarded the boy a position in the royal household as the prince's personal manservant, much to the horror of both the boy and the prince."

Merlin paused, and he couldn't help smiling.

"And so the dragon was right; the boy could not escape his destiny, for he spent his life from that day forward helping and protecting the prince. Who, as it turned out, was only sometimes an idiot and not nearly as much of an arrogant prat as he first seemed. Still a bit of a prat though. Obviously. But he loved his people, and soon the boy knew the dragon had spoken the truth: he would indeed one day be a great king."

Merlin finally looked up to find Arthur watching him. He wasn't sure how the king would respond to the story, but for the first time since Merlin had confessed his secret, Arthur's face wasn't cold and closed off. Instead, Arthur gave him a slight nod and a trace of a smile.

There was a moment of heavy silence. Then Gwaine spoke up. "You're really a sorcerer?" he asked, and Merlin felt a pang of encouragement when he heard awe rather than judgment in his voice. He looked up nervously to see Gwaine grinning at him. Swallowing, he nodded. The knight chuckled, looking away and shaking his head before turning back to Merlin. "A sorcerer," he repeated to himself. "Cursed with a destiny to help Arthur."

"Hey," Arthur protested half-heartedly.

"Was the bit about doing magic as a baby true?" Percival asked skeptically. He was studying Merlin closely, like he'd never seen him before.

"Yes. It absolutely terrified my mother."

"I've never heard of a sorcerer who didn't have to train to learn magic."

"That's because there aren't any," Merlin admitted slowly. "Besides me."

"Any?" Arthur repeated in surprise.

Merlin shook his head. "Gaius says he's never heard of anyone having magic like mine. I'm a mon—" he stopped himself and tried again. "I'm unusual, even among sorcerers. More than unusual. Unique. Or so I'm told."

"This is what happened last week," Leon said softly, but when Merlin looked at him, he was looking at Arthur.

Arthur's jaw clenched, and he nodded.

" _This_ is why you punched him?" Gwaine asked incredulously, and Merlin cringed as he saw the outrage come into his eyes.

Arthur sighed. "In my – admittedly, very poor – defense, I honestly thought he would punch me back. He has taken a swing at me before, after all. More than once."

Elyan finally asked the obvious question. "So what now? I mean, he's here and not in jail or being executed – not that I'm complaining – so…what does that mean?"

Arthur stood up and walked over, joining the circle. "I don't know," he admitted, meeting Merlin's eyes. "I'm still trying to figure this out. But the maera can't be defeated without magic, so for now…well, we need a sorcerer."

"Can your magic beat the maera?" Gwaine asked, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

Merin winced at the question. "If it could, I already would have," he said. "But it looks like I'm pretty useless without the Ainthia."

"And with the Ainthia?" Elyan asked, and Merlin shrugged helplessly.

"I hope so. I guess we'll find out."

"You mean for Merlin to fight it," Percival realized, looking to Arthur. "Alone?" Arthur turned away and nodded.

"I think he's the only one who stands a chance."


	10. Chapter 10

Dawn was only a few hours away when the knights settled in to sleep. Merlin's revelation had caused a great deal of excitement, but in addition to that, Arthur knew no one was eager to face the maera again, and therefore no one was eager to sleep, regardless of how tired they might be.

As the conversation finally died down and they each started staking out their piece of ground, Arthur caught Merlin's eye and nodded to Leon. Merlin obediently made his way over to the knight, kneeling beside him. He looked pale and weak; it had not been a good idea for him to go so long without rest.

"Leon?" Merlin asked softly, and the knight looked over in surprise.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to sit up.

"No, stay," Merlin said hurriedly. "I just wanted to offer…I could do more. To heal you, I mean."

"If you're willing," Arthur interjected. "If you don't want to be healed by magic, you won't be." Arthur already felt slightly guilty that Merlin had healed Leon some without permission, although it had _had_ been necessary to save his life. But if the knight didn't want magic to be used on him again, he wouldn't force it.

Leon studied Merlin's face in the dark. "You could do that?" he asked uncertainly.

"I can't heal you completely," Merlin admitted. "But I can help."

Leon hesitated for a moment, then laughed. "Healed by magic," he said under his breath. "All right. Let's do it."

Even in the dark, Arthur could see Merlin's face light up just a little bit, although he wasn't sure if it was because he got to do magic or because the knight trusted him enough to allow it.

"Oh, I want to see this." Gwaine scrambled up from where he had just laid down.

Merlin tensed. "It's not a performance, Gwaine," he said shortly.

"Just pretend I'm not here," the knight replied cheerfully, sitting down several feet away to watch. Elyan and Percival crept closer as well, although more subtly than Gwaine.

Merlin laughed nervously. "I'm not used to doing this with an audience," he admitted. "It's a little weird."

Leon frowned, nervous now as well. "You're not going to accidentally turn me into a horse because you're distracted, are you?"

Merlin let out a real laugh this time. "No, I don't think so. The only risk is that it wouldn't work. But I've done this a thousand times—" he stopped short.

"On me?" Leon's head popped up in alarm, and Merlin shrugged.

"On all of you," he admitted sheepishly. "You have to admit, you all get hurt an awful lot."

Leon looked to Arthur. "This is a little surreal," he said, sounding dazed.

"This has been my life for the past week," Arthur muttered in return, and Leon laughed.

"Okay." He laid his head back down. "I'm ready.

Merlin glanced around again at all the faces staring at him, then cleared his throat and focused on Leon, his hands hovering over his chest. Leon's face was pulled tight in a grimace, as though he were waiting for pain.

" _Ic hæle þina þrowunga,_ " Merlin said softly, and for the second time, Arthur saw the gold overtake his eyes.

"Whoa," Gwaine muttered, wide-eyed.

Merlin stayed frozen for a few more seconds, his eyes bright. Leon gasped, eyes flying open, his back arched. He took a few deep, rattling breaths, and then his body relaxed back down to the ground. Merlin fell to the side, catching himself before he hit the ground.

"How is it?" Merlin asked, scrambling back into a sitting position. "How do you feel?"

Leon sat up tentatively, gently patting the wounds that were hidden under his shirt. "I feel great," he said in surprise. "I mean, not great. But compared to before." He rotated slightly, testing the movements. "I think I could fight, if I had to," he said with satisfaction.

"Well, get some sleep," Arthur advised. "We all need some rest before we fight again."

He stood, and offered his hand to Merlin to help him to his feet. Merlin's eyes widened in surprise at the offer, but he accepted it. As Arthur expected, he stumbled as he found his feet.

"It took a lot out of you, didn't it?" Arthur asked him quietly as they made their way to a separate spot a little ways away from the knights. This time Arthur didn't even question Merlin following him.

"Healing spells have always been more difficult for me than other types of magic," Merlin admitted, sounding irritated by the fact. "They take more effort, and I fail at them more often. Which is annoying, considering how often I need them. And I just healed Leon far, far more than I would typically."

"Can you heal yourself?" Arthur asked a couple minutes later, after they had settled in.

"Sometimes. It always depends on the injury or illness. Some things respond to magic better than others."

Arthur deliberated for a moment. He was torn, wanting to stay silent for the sake of his pride, but eventually deciding that saying nothing would be unnecessarily spiteful and cruel.

"Could you heal a fractured rib that came from someone punching you?" He received silence in response. "I've seen the way you've been moving, and I know riding isn't helping. If you're going to fight this thing, you need to be well."

"Yes," Merlin said. "I can heal it."

"Then do it." A thought occurred to Arthur. "Why didn't you heal it already, in the dungeons? No one would have noticed."

Merlin was quiet long enough that Arthur thought he might not answer. Then he replied, "It didn't seem right."

"Why not?"

"The lies. The secrets. I felt like maybe I kind of deserved to get punched. I didn't feel right just healing it."

"A penance," Arthur realized.

"Something like that."

"Earlier," Arthur said. "You almost said 'monster,' didn't you? When you said you were unique?" He'd caught the slip at the time, and spent several minutes trying to figure out what started with "mon" that would make sense.

"What else would I be?" Merlin asked. "I'm different from everyone else. I always have been."

"Born completely different. With different powers. Different responsibilities. A weight on your shoulders that others might think they understand, but couldn't possibly."

Merlin snorted. "I think being born a prince is a little bit different, Arthur. It's not something you have to hide. It's not something to be ashamed of. It wouldn't get you killed if people found out."

Arthur nodded, although he knew Merlin couldn't see it in the dark. "I guess so." He paused. "Do you think it's something you should be ashamed of?"

"I don't know," Merlin whispered, sounding lost. "Sometimes I'm proud of my power. Of what I'm able to accomplish. And I never feel more alive than when I'm doing magic. But sometimes I feel like I'm just…wrong. Like I don't belong here. Like I could never belong anywhere."

Arthur could understand bits and pieces. The bittersweetness of loving the good he could do with his power contrasted against the isolation it caused.

"Do you think I'm a monster?" Merlin asked. The question came out rough, the emotion behind it unignorable.

Was Merlin a monster? Arthur had thought more hateful things about Merlin in the past week than in all the years they had known each other combined. He'd called him a liar, a traitor, a criminal, a sneak, a manipulator.

But a monster?

And unbidden, he remembered those words again.

_And how long have you been training to be a prat?_

Before he could stop it, a laugh escaped him.

"No," he said. "Don't get me wrong. There's still a lot I don't know about you, and that disturbs me. And I'm still angry at you. But I don't believe you're a monster."

"Thank you," Merlin whispered.

A few minutes later, Arthur heard him snoring, and he resituated himself to a sitting position.

He would not sleep until dawn. He would not risk birthing the maera from his nightmare. But shortly before dawn, Merlin began twitching and whimpering in his sleep. After a couple of minutes, Arthur reached over and shook him.

"Merlin, wake up."

His servant shot upright, eyes wild and body shaking. He took several gasping breaths before his eyes cleared and looked at Arthur in fear.

"You had the nightmare, didn't you?"

* * *

The group did not stir until midmorning. Normally Arthur would be irritated at getting a late start, but given the situation, he preferred they all get some of their sleep in during the day when they could rest without fear.

"Arthur," Merlin asked as they broke camp. "Will you let me do something?"

"That's a dangerously vague question."

"Let me heal your hand." Arthur looked at him in surprise. "You've been favoring it again since you fought the maera. And since I'm on this kick of healing spells," Merlin winced at that, "I think it would be good to go ahead and get your fighting hand back to full ability. Or close to, at least."

Arthur hesitated. He knew Merlin had healed him before. He'd watched Merlin heal Leon twice now. But the idea of someone performing magic on him sent his pulse racing and made him want to reach for his sword.

But Merlin had a good point. If Arthur needed to fight again soon – and odds are he would – he needed his hand.

"You want to perform magic on the king," Arthur said flatly.

"Yes, I do." Merlin looked nervous, but his voice was steady.

This was a bad idea. Arthur knew it was a bad idea. What kind of idiot king would willingly open himself up to sorcery? Who knew how a sorcerer could turn that to his advantage?

But this wasn't just a sorcerer. This was Merlin. And despite everything, Arthur didn't believe Merlin intended to harm him.

"Fine," he muttered through gritted teeth, sticking out his hand. And once again, he heard Merlin chant the words that were becoming familiar. When the light burst into Merlin's eyes, Arthur's stomach jumped and his heart raced, but he didn't feel the same depths of terror he had the first time he saw it happen.

And then he felt it. His hand relaxed, the pain easing.

It was, he realized uncomfortably, a familiar feeling. There was a slight rush of warmth, and then it felt cool, the heat of the inflammation gone.

"You're done that before," he murmured, making and unmaking a fist, feeling nothing but traces of soreness.

"I already told you that," Merlin pointed out.

"Yes, but now I _know_ it. I've felt that before. Many times."

Merlin smiled. "Many, many times."

* * *

Arthur had only been into the Valley of the Fallen Kings a few times, and he didn't like it now any more than he had in the past. You could almost feel the magic in the air. It was too quiet and too loud, all at the same time.

"So where are we headed?" Gwaine asked as they eased their way into the valley.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked. "You hear anything calling to you?"

Merlin stared hard into the valley, then nudged his horse into a walk. "Yes," he replied darkly. "I hear it."

"I feel like that's supposed to be good news," Gwaine pointed out, "but you make it sound like bad news."

Merlin thought for a minute, a troubled look on his face. "I don't like the way it sounds," he said finally.

The closer they drew to the Ainthia, the more disturbed Merlin looked. He didn't say much, but he moved confidently, never slowing down to consider which way to go.

"Does it sound evil?" Arthur finally asked. He wasn't sure what they would do if their only possible weapon to fight the maera turned out to be evil.

"Not evil," Merlin replied after a moment's consideration. "But there's something unpleasantly familiar about it."

Finally, Merlin pulled to a stop and climbed down from his horse, the others following his lead. He turned to look at the cliff rising up beside them, studying it thoughtfully. Then he closed his eyes and walked along it slowly, running his hand lightly over the rock as he walked. He paused once or twice, a look of concentration on his face, then continued again.

"I wonder how long it will take for this not to be weird," Gwaine whispered to Arthur. "Watching Merlin do magicky things."

"I'm pretty sure this will always be weird." How could it not be weird? Magic was abnormal. Unnatural.

Merlin stopped, then took a step back the direction he had come. Then he opened his eyes and turned to face the rock.

"It's here," he said slowly, staring at the cliff.

"Buried in the wall?" Arthur asked skeptically.

"I think so." Merlin placed his fingertips against the rock and glanced at Arthur. "May I…?"

Arthur wasn't entirely sure what form of magic Merlin was intending to do, but he nodded his approval.

He almost immediately wished he hadn't. The rock in front of Merlin started vibrating, and Arthur could feel the ground rattling under his feet. Slowly, the rock turned to sand and fell away, leaving a hole in the wall. After several seconds, Merlin stopped, leaning over to peer into the hole.

Arthur glanced at his knights. Leon and Elyan looked terrified, Percival looked cautious, and Gwaine's eyes were wide with awe.

"Did you just cause an earthquake?" Gwaine demanded excitedly.

"What?" Merlin's voice echoed back distractedly from the hole. "Of course not. Don't be ridiculous." But he didn't provide any additional explanation. "There's something in here. I can't quite get it though."

Merlin reached his hand out again. This time Arthur was prepared, but he still winced until the trembling was over. Then Merlin reached into the hole he had created and pulled out a wooden box slightly larger than Arthur's fist.

"Is that it?" Arthur asked, reaching out, and Merlin handed it over to him.

"I think it's in the box."

The box was beautiful, with intricate carvings. Arthur wondered if they were purely decorative, or if the carvings had meaning.

"Well," he said with a rueful smile, "let's see what this thing is." He pulled on the lid, but it didn't move. Frowning, he looked at it more carefully. There was a visible hinge on one side and no sign of a clasp, so the top _should_ swing open easily. But he tried again, and it didn't budge.

"I think it has to be opened with magic," Merlin suggested. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"How is it that in the course of one week, magic seems to have taken over my life?" he muttered resentfully. "Fine. Open it."

Merlin's eyes flashed and the lid sprung open.

"No incantation this time?" Arthur asked in surprise.

Merlin looked away. "Not everything requires an incantation," he said. "Not for me."

Arthur pulled the lid the rest of the way open and peered inside, then laughed. Reaching in, he grasped the chain between two fingers and pulled it out.

"Look at that, Merlin. A new piece of jewelry for you. It will go just lovely with your eyes."

The other knights laughed, but Merlin let out a creative combination of swear words that Arthur might have expected from Gwaine, but never from his servant.

"Merlin?"

His face was pale, his mouth tight with anger and dread. But his eyes were alight with fear.

"What is it?" Arthur asked, looking down at the necklace.

"Nothing," Merlin growled. Then he sighed and ran his hand over his face. "I just…I really hate crystals."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact - writing the part where Merlin and Arthur discuss how Merlin feels about his magic is what originally sparked the idea for my other story, Creature of Magic. It goes into all of that in more depth (with a little bit of a different take on the characters). If you're enjoying this story, please consider checking that one out as well!


	11. Chapter 11

"So crystals are bad?" Arthur asked tentatively.

Merlin seemed to struggle with how to answer. "Not bad," he answered finally. "Just powerful. And dangerous." He climbed back onto his horse without looking back at Arthur or the crystal.

"I'll use it to fight the maera," he said. "But until then, I don't want to see it. Put it somewhere and don't tell me where."

"Can't you hear it calling?" Arthur asked as he mounted his own horse.

"Not if I don't listen. If I don't listen and I don't know where it is…" Merlin took a shaky breath. "Maybe then I can ignore it." He swore again. "I should have known when Kilgharrah said it would call to me."

Arthur tossed the crystal to Percival, who stuck it in his pocket. Arthur didn't think there was much point in hiding it regardless of what Merlin said, but Percival was less likely to be right by Merlin's side than Arthur.

"What's wrong with crystals?" Arthur demanded. "You said it's dangerous."

Merlin sighed. "The power in crystals can be difficult to wield. I've dealt with crystals a couple of times. The first time it messed with my head. The second time it nearly drove me insane."

Arthur glanced back at Percival. An insane sorcerer did not sound like a good thing.

"Do you think this crystal will drive you insane?" he asked nervously.

Merlin shrugged. "I won't know until I wield it. Both of the others were used for visions of the future, so they may be fundamentally different. I hope so."

Arthur hoped so too.

* * *

Merlin sat on a hill, staring off into the distance. If he looked hard, he maybe saw the outline of Camelot against the sky. But maybe it was just a trick of his eyes.

"So," he heard a voice behind him say. "You're a sorcerer." Gwaine sat down heavily next to him. "You might have mentioned it."

Merlin smiled apologetically. "I couldn't tell anyone."

"I would have kept your secret." There was a note of hurt in Gwaine's voice that made Merlin wince.

"I believe you. But I couldn't tell someone else before I told Arthur. That wouldn't have been fair to him. And besides, I couldn't ask you to lie to him."

"Why wouldn't it have been fair to him?"

"Because he's my king," Merlin replied simply. "I owe him the truth above anyone else."

"You sure take this 'he is my king' thing seriously," Gwaine said dryly.

"He is the Once and Future King. You're my friend, Gwaine, but Arthur is literally my destiny." He turned to look at the knight. "He's a good king. I'm honored to serve him. Even if he is a prat."

Gwaine laughed. "I'll never understand you two. There is no one in the kingdom as loyal to him as you are, and no one as quick to insult him."

Merlin shrugged and smiled. "He'd get worried if I started being nice to him."

"I still can't believe he punched you. More than once, by the looks of it." Gwaine glowered at the bruises.

Merlin's hand automatically rose to touch his cheek. "I wasn't expecting that," he admitted. "I thought he might execute or banish me, and I wasn't surprised when he arrested me, but the punching…that hadn't even occurred to me."

"He arrested you?" Gwaine asked in shock, understanding quickly settling on his face. "That's where you were all week." Merlin nodded.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Gwaine said, "I guess in some ways it's a good sign, isn't it? The punching?"

Merlin looked at his friend inquisitively. "It didn't really feel like a good sign."

Gwaine shrugged. "When a subject betrays his king, the king charges him with a crime and sentences him. Like you said – execution, banishment, even the stocks. But punching? That's personal. That's something someone does when they're betrayed by a friend. He could have responded to the truth as a king. But even in that worst of moments, he still saw you as his friend."

Merlin looked away. The knowledge that Arthur felt the betrayal personally was as bad as the punches themselves, despite Gwaine's optimistic take on it.

"Merlin," Arthur called from halfway down the hill, walking up to join them. "Dinner is ready." Arthur had insisted one of the knights prepare the meal that afternoon so Merlin would have some time to rest and prepare for what was coming. "You need to eat something, and then you need to get what sleep you can."

Merlin nodded and stood. His body was still sore, but he no longer felt the stabbing pain in his ribs whenever he moved. Even so, he was still tired, still weak. Not the ideal conditions for going into a fight.

Armed with a crystal, at that. And with no idea what to expect.

* * *

Arthur sat next to Merlin on a log as they ate, watching him carefully out of the corner of his eye. There were lines on his servant's forehead and around his mouth, clear signs of worry. The others complimented Elyan on the food, but Merlin seemed to eat the stew on autopilot, alternating between staring blankly into space and staring at Percival's leg, where Arthur knew the crystal lay.

"I thought you said you could ignore it," Arthur asked him quietly so the others couldn't hear.

"I'm trying," Merlin muttered, and he shuddered. "It's just loud."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Arthur didn't know what he would do if Merlin said no, but the servant's fear was contagious.

"It's the only idea," Merlin said with a shrug. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were worried about me."

Arthur snorted. Then, after a few seconds, "Maybe I am. A little bit. The idea of you dying scares me. The idea of magic scares me. Put those two together, and I have strong reservations about this fight."

Merlin turned, studying Arthur's face closely. "The idea me dying scares you?"

Arthur looked away from his gaze. "You sound surprised."

"You've been so angry. I thought it might be a relief. You wouldn't have to decide what to do with me."

"No. It would have been a relief if you had escaped the dungeons. That's why I wouldn't let anyone visit you. I thought if I could make you feel like it was hopeless to stay, you would run. It's not what I really wanted, but I wanted it in the moment. I wanted it to be out of my hands, so I wouldn't have to decide what to do with you."

"It's not like you to take the coward's way out." Merlin said the words without malice, but they still landed like a physical blow. Arthur hadn't thought of it that way, but Merlin was right.

"I wouldn't have pursued you, you know. I would have let you go free." Arthur smiled bitterly into the distance. "I would have been furious with you for doing it though. For abandoning me."

"I've told you before," Merlin said seriously. "I'm happy to be your servant until the day I die."

"Because it's your destiny." Arthur raised his eyebrows at him. "You left that part out of what you told me before."

"We hadn't gotten around to it yet." Merlin shrugged. "But that's not the only reason why. I know what kind of man you are. What kind of king you are. Why have this power without a purpose? And I think helping the people of Camelot is a noble purpose. And the best way to help Camelot is to help you."

Arthur laughed. "You've always believed better of me than I deserve." Then he paused for a moment. "I used to think that, anyway. But I guess not always. You should have thought enough of me to confide in me. And I don't think you thought much of me in the beginning, but I guess I didn't really deserve it then."

"It was always in you." Merlin gave him a small smile. "I just didn't see it at first."

"Growing up, my father always talked about the importance of having the loyalty of my people, especially the nobles and the knights. And back then, I thought that meant making people like me. And then you showed up, and you didn't like me at all. But you showed the utmost loyalty. It changed the way I looked at it."

Merlin grinned to himself.

"What?"

"When I told the dragon you were an idiot, he said perhaps part of my job was to help you be less of one. I'm glad I might have helped at least a little." He paused, then eyed Arthur nervously. "Are you still angry, Arthur?"

Arthur snorted. "I think I'm going to be at least a little bit angry for a long time, Merlin. And I think I have a right to be."

"So stop asking?"

"So stop asking," Arthur confirmed. After a minute, Arthur shoved Merlin sideways. Then he stood and walked away, leaving Merlin smiling into his bowl.

* * *

"So how does this work?" Arthur sat across from Merlin. The knights sat scattered around them, trying to give Merlin some space, but staying close enough to see and hear.

Merlin didn't seem to hear the question; he was staring enraptured at the crystal in Arthur's hands, leaning forward slightly as though magnetically drawn to it.

"Merlin! _Merlin!"_ Arthur had to yell to cut through Merlin's trance, the servant finally breaking his gaze on the crystal and looking at Arthur.

"What?" he asked, disoriented.

Arthur looked down at the crystal. It just looked like a translucent rock, white tinged with red. If he really thought about it, he could feel something coming from it, a kind of humming energy. But nothing that drew his attention like it did Merlin's.

"I asked how this works," Arthur repeated. "The dragon said you would know. How exactly is it a weapon?"

Merlin shook his head. "It's not a weapon like you're thinking of it. Crystals like this work on the mind. I think all the Ainthia does is let me fight the maera from within the nightmare, where it's more vulnerable."

Arthur tightened his grip on the crystal in frustration. "I thought it might…I don't know, shoot extra powerful magic out of it or something."

Merlin barely smiled. "I don't think so. I think I simply wear it and go to sleep."

"Maybe the nap this afternoon wasn't a good idea," Arthur realized worriedly. "Do you think you _can_ fall asleep?" He was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to if the roles were reversed. He felt the energy of battle pumping through his veins, and he wasn't even the one going into the fight.

"I'm tired," Merlin said softly, his eyes drifting back to the crystal. "I can sleep." Arthur felt a pang of guilt. "Besides, I think the Ainthia might help with that, once I'm wearing it."

Arthur picked up his sword with his other hand and held it out to Merlin. Merlin pulled his gaze free again and looked at the sword, puzzled.

"I know," Arthur jumped in before Merlin could say anything. "I know a sword is likely useless against it, and it probably won't even move into the dream with you. But it's worth trying, isn't it?" It was a vain effort; possibly even silly. But it was the only thing Arthur had come up with that he might be able to do to help.

Merlin offered him a small smile and reached out and took the sword.

"It's worth trying," he agreed softly.

Arthur clenched his fist around the crystal, then reached out with an open hand, the Ainthia resting on his palm. "Are you ready?"

Merlin's eyes glazed over, his hand reaching out for it. Then he snatched his hand back. "No," he said shakily. "Let me get settled first. I don't want it until I absolutely have to."

He found a spot sitting on the ground, his back against a tree, the sword clutched in his hand by his side.

"You don't want to lie down?" Arthur asked in confusion, and Merlin shook his head.

"I know it's irrational, but I feel more prepared for a fight sitting up." He took a deep breath, and then another, and then he finally nodded. "Okay. I'm ready."

His eyes locked on the Ainthia, and his hand trembled as he gently lifted it from Arthur's palm. He didn't blink, seemingly absorbed in its depths as he stared at it. Carefully, Arthur took the long chain and lifted it over Merlin's head, unsure if Merlin was aware enough to realize it needed to be done or if he was already lost to the power of the crystal.

Then, slowly, Merlin's grip loosened. The Ainthia fell from his hand and landed on his chest. His eyes blinked vacantly, then closed.


	12. Chapter 12

Merlin opened his eyes to darkness. Not the shadowy darkness of a room at night, but the absolute darkness found in the depths of a cave.

But he could hear it. The soft pad of footsteps. The gentle rumbling growl.

He braced himself, trying to pinpoint the direction the noise came from. He didn't realize he had a sword in his hand until he felt his grip instinctively tighten on it.

" _Leoht_ ," he whispered quietly, and a sphere of light appeared. He repeated the spell until several lights drifted around him. He pushed them out tentatively, searching for the creature.

And then, to his left, three of the lights went out, and he knew the darkness of the nightmare had consumed them.

" _Ástríce!_ " he yelled, and the darkness pulled back long enough for Merlin to turn and face it, bracing himself. " _Folge min bebod!_ "

He heard a roar of anger, and the darkness lunged.

He couldn't make out the shape of it until it was nearly on him, and then he saw the claws extended, reaching for his chest. Ducking quickly, he swung Arthur's sword up, slicing the belly of the maera and earning another shriek of rage.

But had it done anything? The knights had landed multiple blows that should have been fatal without even hindering the beast.

Quickly, Merlin summoned more balls of light, trying to rob the creature of its advantage of darkness.

Then he heard a rumble behind him. He spun, but not quickly enough, and the creature crashed into him. He felt the slice of the claws running across his back as he fell.

* * *

Merlin was clearly asleep, his head resting back against the tree, but his face did not look peaceful in the firelight. It was tightly drawn, and he twitched frequently, occasionally letting out a small gasp. Arthur and the knights watched in silence, waiting.

Arthur had never felt more helpless. Battles were supposed to be the one place in life where he never felt helpless.

Then, unexpectedly, Merlin gave out a cry, his body jerking before sliding to the ground. In horror, Arthur watched as blood began to seep through the back of his shirt. He froze for a moment in shock before scrambling over to him, Leon immediately following behind.

"Roll him over," Arthur ordered, and they pushed him so he was lying on his stomach.

"He's on the sword," Arthur muttered, reaching to take it before they accidentally sliced his stomach open. But to his surprise, Merlin's grip on the sword was tight, so he settled for rearranging it while Leon used his own sword to slice the shirt open.

Arthur swore as he saw the gashes. "We need to treat the wounds," he said. "Quick, grab Merlin's bag."

"Will treating the wounds here do anything to help him?" Percival asked worriedly, grabbing the bag and handing it over. "He's in a dream."

Arthur didn't answer.

* * *

Somehow, Merlin managed not to drop the sword as he fell. Stumbling to his feet again, he looked around until he spotted the creature. He saw with grim satisfaction that it moved slower, hobbling, and the lights around it no longer went out. So his blow had done something after all. Taking the sword in two hands, he braced himself for the next attack. The lion's head was the most dangerous, so that's where he would focus.

The creature charged again and Merlin stood his ground, forcing himself not to dodge or retreat. It was only a few yards away.

A few feet.

Merlin thrust the sword upwards, digging it into the side of the lion's throat. The creature gave a terrible howl, and Merlin turned to watch the lion's head thrashing in agony before it went limp, the dragon's head staring at him wrathfully.

It took him a moment to realize the maera had gotten its own blow in, this time across his chest. Wincing, he pressed his hand against the wound, looking at the blood as he pulled it away. Between that and his back, he was losing a lot of blood, and he had lost his sword.

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head to clear it, and braced himself again. Now it was just him and his magic.

* * *

The bandage wasn't perfect, but it was there, and it would hopefully slow the bleeding. But no sooner had Arthur fastened it than Elyan gasped.

"Arthur, his chest!" It was barely visible with Merlin lying on his stomach, but sure enough, there was another gash across Merlin's front, beginning at his shoulder.

Arthur swore again, carefully rolling Merlin over. He didn't want to have him lie on top of his wounds, but he had no choice. This time when he rolled him, the sword fell out of his hands. Arthur prayed it was a coincidence and not a sign of how the battle was going. Maybe he had just gripped the sword before out of reflex against the pain?

The cut across his chest was shallower than the ones on his back, Arthur noted gratefully.

"We need water," he said, and the moment the words were out of his mouth, Gwaine disappeared towards the nearby stream.

"Should we wake him?" Percival asked grimly. Arthur heard what he didn't say – _Merlin's losing. It's going to kill him._

"If cleaning and dressing the wounds didn't wake him, I doubt anything will," Arthur said, shaking his head. "Not unless we remove the Ainthia."

"No!" Elyan protested sharply, drawing the attention of the others. "I'm no expert on magic, but what if you take it and it removes whatever power it's providing Merlin, but it leaves him trapped in there with it?"

Arthur didn't know how likely that was. He knew almost nothing about magic. Was there anything he could do to save Merlin? But Elyan was right; he couldn't risk leaving Merlin trapped with that monster.

Cursing and praying, he began tending to the wound on his chest.

* * *

Merlin fought against the dizziness that made him unsteady on his feet. Strangely, his chest didn't seem to be bleeding anymore, but he didn't have time to wonder at it as the creature stalked towards him. The lion's head hung limply against its chest as it walked; it made the beast even more grotesque, but it meant one of the more lethal heads was no longer a threat.

It also confirmed beyond doubt that Merlin's blows were indeed harming it, unlike in the previous fights.

He directed his attention to the dragon's head and wondered if his dragonlord abilities would have any impact on it since it wasn't actually a dragon. He was so focused on the dragon that he almost missed the movement of the goat's head until the fire was mere inches away.

" _Gecuman gedrye waeter!_ " he yelled, holding his hand up to block his face. From his hand came a burst of water, flowing out and creating a shield around him. The fire boiled the water, making it hot enough to scald him, but it was better than a blast of flames straight into his face.

Trying to keep half of his magic focused on maintaining the water shield, he pulled the other half to the fingertips on the other hand, pointing it at the maera and screaming, " _Awendaþ eft wansæliga neat!_ "

To his relief, the creature flew backwards, landing on its side.

It was only a moment's reprieve, but a moment was all he needed. He didn't bother taking the time with a spell; he pulled every piece of magic he could reach into himself.

* * *

Arthur's stomach turned as he saw the skin of Merlin's face and chest blister with the burns. Looking down, he saw his right hand and arm blistering as well.

Was he just going to end up wrapping Merlin's entire body in bandages? Was it even doing any good?

Suddenly Merlin's entire body jerked, his arms and legs flinging out, one arm hitting Arthur solidly across the face. Then a blinding ring of golden light flew from Merlin's body, hitting the knights like a wall and sending them flying.

Arthur felt something give in his left shoulder as he landed hard, his head slamming into the ground. He laid there dazed for a moment, his ears ringing, his vision blurry. He couldn't breathe. His chest heaved, trying to bring in air, but nothing came. Just as panic began to take hold, he felt breath find its way into his lungs again.

The wind was just knocked out of him, he realized, sitting up and shaking his head, trying to clear it.

"Look," he heard Gwaine call urgently. Whipping back to look at Merlin again, he saw that his face was red, as though he'd had a bad sunburn, but the blisters were gone. Rushing back to his side, he pulled the bandage on his chest back. The cut was still there, but it looked weeks old; red and puckered, and it would most definitely scar, but the wound was closed.

"You should get back, sire," Leon said, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "There's nothing we can do for him right now, and it won't help anyone for you to get hit by another burst of magic." Arthur hesitated, but allowed his knight to pull him away. He sat down several yards from Merlin and watched him closely.

* * *

" _Dragorn. Non didlkai. Kari miss, epsipass imalla krat. Katostar abore ceriss. Katicur. Me ta sentende divoless. Kar… krisass!_ " Merlin yelled the words as soon as the maera found its feet again. He was still weak with blood loss, but he could move much better now that he'd healed himself.

The dragon looked away briefly at the words, but it immediately turned back to Merlin and blew a stream of fire. Fortunately, it was far enough away this time that Merlin could conjure and push the water shield farther out to block the flames, sparing him from another round of burns.

So his dragonlord abilities were worthless with this particular dragon.

The fire ceased, and the maera circled him. It seemed more hesitant to attack now, limping from its wounds, the lion's head useless.

He could beat it. For the first time, he was sure he could beat it. Yes, he was weak and lightheaded, but his entire body buzzed with power.

The magic of this creature was nothing compared to his.

" _Hleap on bæc_!" he yelled, and the beast stumbled backwards, roaring in pain.

He needed to get closer. He could wound the beast from here, but if he wanted to kill it, he needed to be close enough for the force of the spells to be fatal.

Cautiously, he approached the monster, his hand outstretched, ready to cast the spell. The maera paced, not coming any nearer, but not withdrawing either.

Merlin stopped mere feet away. The maera faced him, but the dragon twisted back so it could stare at Merlin. He kept his eyes on it; it wasn't close enough yet to attack with its teeth, but he knew how quickly the maera could move.

In the end, it was his focus on the dragon that gave the maera its opening. He wasn't ready when the creature lunged.

It landed squarely on his chest, the claws digging in deep. Merlin screamed in pain, falling to the ground. It wasn't a slice like the wounds on his back, or a graze like the previous wound on his chest. The claws sunk in and ripped.

* * *

Merlin had made small noises the entire time he'd been asleep – whimpers and grunts and gasps. But now he let out a scream that stole Arthur's breath.

And then the blood.

Merlin's shirt was off, and the bandage only covered part of his chest, so they all had a clear view as the skin tore open.

Arthur ran to him, but found himself pulled back abruptly.

"Let us handle it," Leon demanded, gripping Arthur's shoulder tightly. "You need to stay back from him."

Arthur pulled free, ignoring Leon's good intentions, and rushed to kneel at Merlin's side. There was no time to clean or treat these wounds; if they didn't slow the bleeding, he would die.

Arthur worked quickly, Percival by his side, handing him bandages, while Gwaine tried to keep pressure on the wounds until Arthur could get to them.

Arthur prayed for another burst of healing magic, but Merlin lay still.

* * *

He could just stay down. His vision was fuzzy, his body heavy. He could just lie down and let the darkness take him.

Except…the maera was badly hurt, but it wasn't dead. If Merlin died, would it recover? Would it return to Camelot, burning and killing?

Maybe not. Maybe it would slip away and die from its injuries. But Merlin couldn't risk it.

He placed his palms on the ground beneath him, struggling to push himself upright. He couldn't stand; there was no point trying.

Merlin tried to remember a spell that might deliver a final killing blow, but his mind was blank. He couldn't remember any spells at all. He couldn't _think_ at all.

So he did what he had done for so many years before he came to Camelot; he turned himself over to instinct.

He pushed his magic out and, with it, grabbed the two remaining heads of the maera. And with all of the magic he had left within himself, he pulled. There was a pained shriek, cut off abruptly as the beast tore apart, the two pieces flung from each other with such force that they disappeared into the blackness around them.

Then the lights Merlin had summoned went out. Or did his vision just fade? Merlin wasn't sure. All he knew was that it was dark.

And then he saw light again. Sunlight, he thought. And there was Arthur, kneeling in front of him with the knights behind him.

"Did you kill it?" Arthur asked. His voice was cold, as it had been the night he'd sent Merlin to the dungeons.

Wearily, Merlin nodded his head. He didn't have the energy to speak.

"Good," Arthur said. "Then I guess we don't need you anymore." He stood, and Merlin barely had time to register the sword in Arthur's hand before he saw the flash of the blade coming towards him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stick with me. I haven't lost my mind. I promise.


	13. Chapter 13

"We have to get him to Gaius," Arthur said grimly once he'd fastened the last of the bandages. They'd done what they could, but he knew without real treatment, Merlin didn't have long. The knights moved quickly, grabbing the horses and preparing to ride.

"What if the maera escapes the nightmare once we get to Camelot?" Percival asked quietly as he lifted Merlin onto Arthur's horse, helping Arthur settle him into the saddle in front of him. The wounds on his chest prevented them from simply laying him across his own horse, as they might have in other circumstances.

It was a fair question. Arthur didn't have an answer.

* * *

Merlin saw the flash of Arthur's sword coming towards him, but he didn't feel pain when it landed. He felt just a moment of cold against his throat, and then it disappeared, as did Arthur.

He was in Gaius's chambers. And somehow he was standing, despite all of his blood loss, watching Gaius kneel on the floor next to a body.

It felt eerily familiar. He had seen this before. Dread made his steps heavy as he approached Gaius, the face of the body coming into view.

"Mother?" he whispered. She was disfigured with illness, but it was her.

"You did this," Gaius accused, looking up at him in horror. "You bargained with Nimueh to trade a life, and now you have murdered your mother. Who are you to toy with life and death?"

The glaring brightness of sunlight suddenly replaced the darkness of the chambers. He found himself in the courtyard, a crowd standing around him. And above him, Arthur stood on the balcony. He spoke with Uther's voice.

"For your crimes of sorcery and betrayal, you are hereby sentenced to death."

Merlin looked down and realized he couldn't move. His arms were tied behind him, and he stood on a pile of wood.

No…

Not this. Anything but this.

Gaius approached, a torch in his hand.

"How could you?" he asked, his voice breaking with disappointment. "How many times did I tell you your magic was a secret to be guarded with your life?" He lowered the torch to the pyre, and as the fire rose up around Merlin, he could see Arthur watching impassively through the flames.

And somewhere in Merlin's mind, something tugged.

Gaius would never do that. No matter what Merlin did, his guardian would never abandon him in his final moments.

* * *

Arthur didn't bother waiting for the knights. He had the fastest horse, and he pushed it as hard as he could. He galloped through the early hours of the morning, one arm holding Merlin upright. Several times he felt Merlin twitch against him, and he did his best to inspect for any new wounds. But as far as he could tell, nothing appeared, to both his surprise and relief.

"Hold on, Merlin," he muttered. "Just…don't die before I can get you to Gaius. Hold on."

* * *

He stood in the throne room, and behind him he heard the tearing of fabric. He held a flask of water in his hand. Turning around, he saw Morgana kneeling on the floor. Not Morgana as he had last seen her, wild and raging, but Morgana as he had once known her.

"Here," he heard himself say, holding the flask out to her.

"I'm fine."

Merlin felt himself start to tremble. This too was familiar.

"No, you have some before I finish it."

He saw the gratitude in Morgana's eyes, the small smile.

"Thank you."

It was the last time she had ever looked at him that way. The last time she had ever smiled at him. Merlin wanted to reach out and grab the flask from her hands as she drank, but of course, he couldn't. He couldn't change history.

And now he would turn away…

But he didn't. He watched her, and when the first cough left Morgana's lips, he felt a smile stretch across his face.

"Merlin?" she gasped, struggling for breath.

"What a fool you were, Morgana," he said, "to befriend a sorcerer. Don't you know magic corrupts all who carry it?"

He heard himself laugh as she fell to the floor, terror in her eyes.

No! That wasn't what happened! He had wept, he had held her! He remembered this!

_That isn't what happened!_

* * *

Camelot was in sight, although still in the distance, when Arthur felt Merlin began to shake violently. Checking again, he saw no new wounds, although he could feel the sticky wetness of blood on the arm holding Merlin; he was bleeding through the bandages.

Then, to his shock, Merlin cried out in a weak and anguished voice.

"That isn't what happened!"

Arthur wasn't willing to stop, but he tried to twist so he could see Merlin's face. His servant was still definitely asleep, although his face was contorted in pain.

"It's okay," he promised, knowing he couldn't hear him. "We're almost there."

* * *

He had _not_ laughed when Morgana died! And magic did _not_ corrupt all who carried it! Why had he said that?

Why was he experiencing any of this?

He almost didn't realize the throne room had faded away, replaced by a forest. In the distance, he heard the clanging of swords and men yelling.

"Merlin," a voice wheezed from the ground near his feet. Looking down, he saw Arthur lying on his back, a sword protruding from his stomach.

"Arthur!" He knelt down beside the king, staring in horror at the wound.

"I'm scared, Merlin. Help me." Arthur's body shivered, his eyes wide.

"I will," Merlin assured him. "I can. Here." Flinching, he took hold of the sword, feeling sick at the squelching sound it made as it pulled free.

"Save me, Merlin. Please, save me!"

Merlin held his hands out, reaching for his magic.

But there was nothing there.

That wasn't possible! Magic was a part of him. How could it not be there?

" _Gestepe hole! Þurhhæle!_ " he roared, but he knew it wouldn't work.

How could this be happening?

_Because this is a nightmare_.

The realization hit with certainty. The Ainthia. What had Kilgharrah called it? The Summoner of Nightmares? The Ainthia had taken him into a nightmare with the maera, but once the maera was dead, it had just taken him to the next nightmare.

And the next.

And the next.

"Please, Merlin," Arthur begged.

" _Licsar ge staðol nu!_ " Merlin tried again.

Arthur let out a weak laugh. "Some protector you turned out to be."

It wasn't real. It was the crystal. None of this was real.

Merlin tried to reach through to wakefulness as he watched Arthur die in front of him.

"It isn't real! Get it off! _GET THE AINTHIA OFF!_ "

* * *

When Merlin cried out again, it didn't shock Arthur as much. He didn't like it, but it was somewhat low on his list of concerns at the moment. And then he heard what Merlin cried.

"Get it off! _GET THE AINTHIA OFF!_ " It was more than a yell; it was a shriek, filled with desperation.

And very specific. Eyes wide, Arthur slowed for a moment, fumbling to pull the crystal off of Merlin and shoving it in his pocket.

"Merlin?"

For just a moment, his servant opened his eyes, searching until he saw Arthur behind him. Then he faded away once more.

* * *

The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon when Arthur finally reached Camelot. Spotting the closed gates ahead, he yelled as he approached.

"Open, by order of the king! _Now!_ "

The guards' eyes flew wide, but they tore into action so Arthur barely had to slow down when he reached the gate. The citadel was still mostly empty, and he did not slow again until he reached the courtyard.

Merlin was bleeding freely again, Arthur noted numbly as he raced to Gaius's chambers. The bandages might as well not be there.

He burst into the physician's quarters at full speed.

" _Gaius!_ "

"Wha-?" he heard the physician gasp, sitting up in bed.

"Merlin. He's dying."

Gaius was by Arthur's side in a moment, all signs of sleepiness gone as he watched the king lay Merlin down on a cot.

"What happened?" he asked, bending down to examine his ward.

"He fought the maera," Arthur said. "Using the Ainthia."

"He fought it from within the nightmare?"

"Yes. But apparently the wounds aren't contained within the dream."

"No," Gaius murmured, "they wouldn't be." He rushed over to his shelves, grabbing a couple of bottles before hurrying back to Merlin.

"What can I do?" Arthur asked.

"You can get Gwen. Without Merlin, she's the best able to assist me. And then you can get out."

* * *

"What are you doing out here?"

Arthur looked up to see the four knights coming up the stairs towards him. They'd clearly come straight to the physician's chambers when they arrived; they were covered in dirt and blood.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Arthur asked, gesturing towards Gaius's door. "I'm waiting for news."

"I'm just surprised you're out here and not in there," Gwaine observed, prompting Arthur's scowl to deepen.

"Gaius kicked me out."

"I don't blame him," Elyan said with a sympathetic look that didn't really match his words. Arthur raised his eyebrows at him and he rushed to explain, "I'm sure he needs to focus, and you kind of…have a presence. You hovering wouldn't help him."

Arthur huffed.

After a moment, Gwaine sat down beside him. "Did he ever wake?"

Arthur nodded, remembering Merlin's screams before he removed the crystal. "Only for a moment though."

"So he's not still fighting the maera?"

"I don't think so. He asked me to take the Ainthia off." Kind of. "I don't think he would have done that unless it was over."

The five of them sat in silence for several minutes before Arthur finally said, "You lot look rough. Go clean up and get some rest. I'll send word once I have news."

Gwaine snorted. "We look rough? Arthur, you are literally covered in blood from head to toe."

Arthur glanced down in surprise. They were right; he had blood everywhere.

"Go." Gwaine nudged him. "We'll send for you as soon as Gaius tells us anything."

Arthur gave Gwaine the most scathing look he could manage, and the group fell back into silence.

"Sire," a proper voice said above him a few minutes later.

Arthur cringed before forcing himself to look up at a face he did not want to see.

"I heard you had returned from your journey," George continued, a tray in his hands. "Since you have not yet returned to your quarters, I thought I might bring breakfast to you and your companions here."

He had literally no facial expression. How could someone keep their face so entirely blank?"

"Thank you, George," Percival said, taking the tray. The servant looked startled to have the large knight respond instead of Arthur, but he surrendered the food without a fight.

"Can I bring you anything else, sire?" he asked, turning his attention back to Arthur.

"No," Arthur answered shortly.

"Shall I prepare a bath for you for when you return to your quarters?"

Gritting his teeth, Arthur decided maybe it would be good to give the servant something to do. "That would be great."

"And when do you think that will be, sire?"

Percival took one look at Arthur's face and clapped a hand down on George's shoulder, guiding him down the stairs. Arthur could hear his protests, but apparently Percival managed to persuade him that it would be best to leave the king alone for a bit.

"Okay," Gwaine announced, standing up. "I can't stand this. I'm just going to poke my head in." The knight opened the door very slightly and peered in. Apparently someone inside noticed, because he said, "Just checking on him. Can I come in?"

Gwaine stepped inside, and Arthur scrambled to his feet, following without waiting for permission.

Gaius and Gwen were both seated by Merlin's side; the flurry of activity Arthur had seen earlier was over. Gaius rested a hand on Merlin's head, and Gwen held his hand, but otherwise the scene was still.

"How is he?" Gwaine asked, his voice uncharacteristically quiet with worry.

Gaius shook his head. "He's not good. Honestly, he would already be dead if—" he spotted Arthur then and broke off.

"If what?" Arthur prompted gently.

Gaius's face tightened into the angry and disapproving expression Arthur had seen so many times in the past week and a half. "If he didn't have his magic," the physician finished. "I think it must be all that has kept him alive this long."

"Then I'm glad he has it," Arthur replied softly, but Gaius had turned his attention back to the patient, and Arthur wasn't sure he'd heard him. Or maybe he just hadn't believed him.

"He was very brave," Arthur added. "I wouldn't have asked my strongest knight to face that monster singlehandedly, and Merlin did it without a second thought. Honestly, he seemed more afraid of the Ainthia than of the maera."

"Yes, well, it rather simplifies things for you, doesn't it?" Gaius pointed out crisply. "If he gets torn apart by a monster in an effort to save Camelot, I suppose that solves your problem and absolves you of guilt."

Arthur froze, staring at Gaius. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Gaius stood up and turned to face the king, the lines of his face deepened by anger and grief.

"It means," he said coldly, "if Merlin dies, you don't have to figure out what to do about a sorcerer. And if he dies saving Camelot, you don't have to feel guilty about his death."

Gwaine put a hand on his chest before Arthur even realized he had moved.

"Easy, Arthur." Turning his attention to Gaius, he said, "Arthur risked his own safety to save Merlin. Even after Merlin hit him with magic and injured him, he insisted on treating Merlin's wounds himself. And he's risking Camelot by bringing Merlin here when we don't even know yet if the maera is dead."

Gaius's eyebrows rose in surprise and he turned to Arthur. "Is that true?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes." The weight of Gaius's scrutiny made him uncomfortable, so Arthur took a few steps towards Merlin, trying to see his servant. "I may be angry, but I don't want him to die, Gaius. He's—" he broke off, unsure how to finish it. "He's Merlin."

Gwen looked up from Merlin and smiled at him. "He's your friend."

Arthur let out a derisive snort, but that just made Gwen laugh. Glancing back, he saw Gaius still studying him.

"Unless something drastic changes, he shouldn't die within the next hour," Gaius finally said. "And you're both a mess. This is a place of healing; I can't have you spreading dirt and blood over everything. Go clean up, and then you if you want, you can return and sit with him."

Gwaine chuckled. "I know when I'm being kicked out." He nodded respectfully at Gaius. "I'll be back."

Arthur lingered a moment longer, looking at Merlin. He seemed to be sleeping calmly now, without the twitching and muttering that had punctuated his sleep during the fight and the flight to Camelot.

"Come on, Arthur," Gaius said quietly.

Arthur turned to face the physician. "Gaius, I know you're still furious with me, but…" Arthur sighed. But what? He wasn't sure he was sorry for the things he had done; he still felt his anger against Merlin was justified. But he was sorry for what he had put Gaius through.

"Thank you for taking care of him."

"I don't do it for you, sire." Gaius spoke the words with surprise, not malice, and Arthur smiled.

"I know. But I'm thankful all the same. Please send word if anything in his condition changes."

Gaius considered him for a moment, then nodded. "I will do that, sire."


	14. Chapter 14

"What did Sir Gwaine mean?" Gaius asked Arthur that afternoon. Gwen had been sent home to get some rest, and it was just the physician and the king sitting next to Merlin. "When he said Merlin struck you with magic?"

It took a moment for Arthur to remember. "It was while he was fighting the maera. He was injured – not quite this badly, but pretty badly. And then he just…did something. He healed himself. There was this bright light – honestly, it was almost like an explosion of magic. It threw us all back, but since I was the one closest to Merlin, I was the one it hit the hardest."

Gaius raised an eyebrow. "Why were you the one closest?"

"I was trying to tend to his wounds." Arthur's face tensed at the memory. "I'm not sure it was really doing anything to help him in the fight, and honestly, he was getting wounded faster than we could get him bandaged. But we tried."

Gaius closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. When he opened them again, some of the hardness had faded from his face.

"Did the magic hurt you?"

Arthur automatically reached out to touch the sore spot on the back of his head. "No. Well, yes, but it was the landing that hurt me, not the magic itself."

Gaius stood. "What was injured?"

"I hit my head, and I landed wrong on my left arm and did something to my shoulder. Nothing major though."

"Let me take a look."

Arthur was strangely touched by the offer. He shouldn't be; Gaius was the court physician, after all. It was literally his job to tend to the king's injuries. But Arthur understood the offer was a tentative olive branch.

"I had hoped," he said as Gaius prodded gently at the tender spot on the back of his head, "that he'd do it again. Heal himself, I mean. When he got hurt again, we did our best to bandage it, and we got him to you as quickly as we could. But I kept thinking he would do it again."

"You wanted him to do it even though it would have hit you again? It would have knocked you off your horse at a full gallop, you know."

"I know," Arthur acknowledged quietly. "But I didn't see how he could survive otherwise."

Gaius moved from Arthur's head to his shoulder, and Arthur winced as the physician moved his arm.

"Why hasn't he healed himself, Gaius? Why did he only do it once?"

"I told you," Gaius said, his hands stilling as he saw Arthur flinch, "he would be dead without his magic. It is healing him. Just far more slowly. My guess would be that he spent much of his magic in the fight, and he is too depleted for such an extreme outpouring of power." He paused thoughtfully for a moment. "It's also possible that he was highly motivated at that point. If he hadn't yet defeated the maera, he may have felt a higher level of desperation to be healed. If the maera is dead, he might not feel the same urgency."

Gaius moved over to his worktable and began to gather some ingredients into a bowl. "You'll have a headache for a few days, and you'll need to rest your shoulder for at least a week or so, but you'll be fine."

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked, surprised he would go even that far from Merlin's side.

"Making you something for the pain."

As night drew nearer, Arthur began to feel nervous. He'd spent the day so concerned about Merlin that he'd almost forgotten the original crisis that had driven them to this point. Merlin still wasn't awake, and they still didn't know if he had managed to kill the maera. Would it attack another town tonight? Would it attack Camelot?

"Gaius?" he asked. "Any idea when he'll wake up?"

Gaius shook his head. "I've done what I can for his wounds, but most of his healing at this point is coming from magic, and I cannot predict it."

Arthur studied his servant. He was relieved to see Merlin hadn't bled through the bandages Gaius and Gwen had done that morning. He was frighteningly pale though, apart from the mottling of bruises on his face.

"I should have had him heal those when he healed his ribs," he muttered.

Gaius followed his gaze. "He healed his ribs?" he asked in surprise.

"It was interfering with his riding. And I didn't want him going into this fight at a disadvantage."

He looked over and was surprised to see Gaius gazing pensively at him with the hint of a smile.

"You are, in many ways, so unlike your father," the physician said softly. "Sometimes I fail to remember that. You see the wisdom in compassion instead of viewing it as a weakness. Your father was a good king, but I believe you inherited many of his strengths and few of his weaknesses."

Arthur was taken aback by the compliment, but he was saved from having to respond.

"'thur?" a voice from the bed mumbled, and both Gaius and Arthur whipped their attention back to Merlin.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked, leaning over. "Are you awake?"

Merlin's eyes opened blearily, but he didn't speak again. He just looked around, slightly confused, until his eyes found Gaius, and then the king. When he finally made eye contact, Arthur couldn't stop a grin from spreading across his face.

"Good morning, idiot. How'd you sleep?"

Merlin blinked, and it suddenly occurred to Arthur that he might fall right back asleep again, as he had on the horse, and Arthur needed a piece of information before that.

"Did you kill it?" he asked urgently.

Merlin blanched, his eyes suddenly widening in terror. He tried to pull back from Arthur, but let out a cry of pain as he moved.

"Stay still," Gaius ordered, rushing over and grabbing his shoulders. "It's fine now. You're here. You're safe."

"It was a nightmare," Merlin muttered to himself, eyes wide and glazed. "It was just a nightmare."

Arthur thought "just a nightmare" was a bit dismissive, considering the nightmare had nearly killed Merlin, but he didn't think it would be helpful to point that out just then.

Then Merlin looked at him again, and Arthur had the discomfiting feeling that Merlin's fear was directed at him.

"Merlin?" he asked, concerned.

Slowly, his servant's breathing evened out again. "Yes," he said, the distress not entirely gone from his eyes. "The maera is dead."

Arthur felt a rush of relief. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure." There was no note of victory or triumph in his voice. Just exhaustion and fear.

But for the moment, Arthur's relief drowned out his concern. The maera was dead, and Merlin had woken. "Thank you. We owe our lives to you. Everyone in Camelot does."

The fear disappeared from Merlin's face, replaced by bemusement. And then he fell asleep again.

* * *

The first thing Merlin noticed was the pain. He felt a throbbing in his torso that seemed to go into the bones themselves.

The second thing Merlin noticed was the very familiar sound of Gaius's snoring. The pain seemed to lessen a little just by hearing the rhythm of it. If Gaius was close by, he felt safe.

The third thing he noticed was the light. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the insistence of the morning sunlight coming through the window. Squinting against the brightness, he opened his eyes.

Arthur was sitting on a chair next to him, his feet propped up on the bed. He was staring at the wall above Merlin's head, his eyes narrowed in a familiar way that Merlin knew meant he was wallowing. His left arm was in a sling, and he had a bruise on his cheekbone.

"What happened to you?" The words came out scratchy. Arthur jumped, startled, and jerked his feet off the bed so that he could lean closer.

"You're awake!" he exclaimed, smiling widely.

He was there and he looked happy that Merlin was awake. Those both seemed like good signs on the forgiveness front.

"Obviously," Merlin said, coughing a bit. "How long have I been out?"

"You've been in and out for the past three days, although this is the most coherent I've seen you." Arthur handed him a water flask, which Merlin took gratefully.

"How are you feeling?"

Merlin considered. "I hurt," he admitted honestly. "And I feel surprised that I'm alive, to be honest."

"It was close," Arthur muttered darkly. "What happened?"

"I was fighting the maera," Merlin replied, trying to remember. "I'd gotten a few good blows in. It was hurt, and the lion's head was pretty much dead. I'd lost the sword though—"

"The sword worked?" Arthur asked excitedly, and Merlin couldn't help but smile. He looked so proud of himself.

"It worked. But I lost it, so I was fighting with just my magic." He hesitated a moment, but Arthur didn't even flinch at the word 'magic.' "I was focusing on the dragon's head, and the beast pounced and got me with its claws." He shuddered at the memory. "It felt…" he trailed off. "I thought I was going to die."

"We all did." Arthur shook his head. "I don't know how you kept fighting for so long after that."

Merlin looked at him in surprise. "I didn't. I knew I was out of time, so I—" he cringed and stopped.

"You what?" Arthur asked suspiciously.

Merlin didn't want to tell him how he defeated the maera. Arthur still knew relatively little about the depth of Merlin's power, and he wasn't sure how Arthur would respond to the truth.

No more secrets, though. No more lies.

"I used my magic to tear it in two," he admitted.

Arthur didn't respond for a long moment. When Merlin dared to look at him, he saw the king staring at him like he was crazy.

"You what?" he asked finally.

Merlin cleared his throat and took another drink. "I've always been particularly good at moving things with magic. In those last moments, I just automatically went back to what came naturally."

"So you… _moved_ one half of the beast one way and moved the other half of the beast the other way?" Arthur asked dumbly.

"It worked," he said with a sheepish shrug, and then winced at the movement.

"Stay still, you idiot. You're basically held together with bandages and magic right now."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "So what happened to you?"

Arthur stared at him in confusion, then looked down, seeming genuinely surprised to see his arm in the sling.

"Nothing serious," he said dismissively. "I just fell and landed on it wrong. Gaius insists I can't use my arm for a week while it heals."

Merlin's eyes narrowed warily. "And your face?"

Arthur looked puzzled. "What about my face?"

"The bruise," Merlin explained slowly, as though talking to child. "Where did it come from?"

Arthur looked away. "I told you. I fell."

Merlin sighed. "So I'm not allowed to lie to you, but you're allowed to lie to me?"

"I'm the king," Arthur declared pompously. "I can lie to whomever I like."

Merlin waited in silence until Arthur looked back at him. When he did, Merlin just stared at him expectantly.

Arthur sighed. "Fine. When you healed yourself, there was a thing. That happened. With your magic. And you flung your arm and hit me in the face. And then threw me back like twenty feet, and I landed on my arm."

"And on his head," a smiling voice said from behind Arthur. "You're awake." Gaius edged around the king to sit down on the side of Merlin's bed. "You gave me quite a scare, my boy."

Merlin returned the smile. "Sorry."

"I'm just glad you're home and alive." Gaius gazed at Merlin for a moment, then glanced at Arthur and sighed. "I suppose I best let you two talk. I'll go let Gwen know you're awake." He squeezed Merlin's hand before he left, his smile full of relief.

"Why do we need to…" Merlin started, looking after Gaius in confusion. But then he decided there was another question he cared about more. "I hit you? With magic? In the head?"

Arthur laughed, which was not what Merlin expected. "Not exactly."

"So what happened, _exactly_? Tell me everything."

And Arthur did. He filled Merlin in on everything from when Merlin fell asleep to when they returned to the castle. Merlin went cold when Arthur described how Merlin's magic had hit him, but he couldn't find any sign of anger in Arthur's eyes as he spoke. All he saw was haunted fear as Arthur described Merlin's injuries appearing over and over again.

"I'm sorry," Merlin whispered anyway. "I didn't think about what the healing might to do the people around me. I was just…"

"Trying to survive?" Arthur supplied dryly. "I hate to break it to you, but these are actually pretty unimpressive as far as battle wounds go. Besides, I'd much rather have a bump on the head and the maera dead than have to fight the maera again directly."

Merlin nodded, still eyeing him skeptically.

"What?" Arthur asked with a hint of exasperation.

"It's really that easy? I struck you with magic, and you're just going to let it go?"

Arthur stared at him for a moment, his face falling, and Merlin thought he saw disappointment in his eyes. Or was it regret? He couldn't tell for sure. He noticed for the first time how tired Arthur looked.

"You saved my kingdom with that magic," Arthur said. "Do you believe me so unjust that I would be angry at receiving some minor injuries in return?"

"I don't believe you unjust, Arthur. You know that," Merlin replied quietly. "But your response to anything associated with magic can be unpredictable."

Arthur took a moment to process those words before giving Merlin a resigned smile. "Fair enough. Then in answer to your question, yes. It's that easy. And..." he trailed off, looking away. "And I'm sorry that my behavior of late would even make you question that."

He glanced back, and Merlin did his best to offer him a smile. Fatigue hit him like a wave, and he couldn't fight through the haziness to find the right words to say.

"You should get some more rest," Arthur realized. "We can talk more later."

Merlin's eyes were already closed, and within seconds he had drifted back into sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

"Merlin, what are you doing?"

Arthur watched the ladle fall back into the pot of soup with a splash, then looked at Merlin, who was watching him nervously from the cot on the other side of the room.

"Getting seconds?" Merlin said meekly. Arthur raised his eyebrows at him and Merlin let out an exasperated sound somewhere between a grunt and a sigh.

"Gaius had to go tend to an emergency in the lower town, and he threatened me on punishment of death if I got out of bed without someone else here to help me! Which is _maddening_ , by the way! I just wanted some more soup!"

"What's the rule, Merlin?" Arthur asked patiently.

Merlin huffed and leaned back against the stack of pillows behind him. "No magic without permission," he grumbled petulantly. "But honestly, I was alone! No one would have seen! I'm still healing, you know. I need nourishment."

Arthur rolled his eyes, picking the bowl up off the table and filling it with more soup.

"Someone could have walked in," he pointed out. "Just like I did." He held the bowl out to Merlin, who scowled at him as he reached for it. Just before his fingers touched it, Arthur pulled it back. "You're not even going to say thank you?"

"Arthur," Merlin warned, and Arthur laughed as he handed him the bowl.

"I can't just turn you loose with magic, Merlin," he said with a grin, sitting down on his usual chair next to the cot. "You and I both know it would take you about a day and a half before you'd turn me into a toad."

"Don't act like a toad and I won't turn you into a toad," Merlin griped, making Arthur laugh again.

"Could you turn me into a toad?" he asked curiously.

Merlin shrugged. "I won't know until I try."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Don't you mean _unless_ you try?"

Merlin shrugged again.

They fell into an easy silence as Merlin ate. It had been three weeks since his fight with the maera, and although he was healing, it was going slowly. Arthur came by at least once a day to check on him. They typically talked, but they'd grown comfortable just sitting quietly as well.

"Arthur?" Merlin broke the silence after a few minutes, his voice hesitant.

"Yes?"

"What happened to the Ainthia?" Merlin still looked nervous with Arthur a great deal of the time, but in this instance, Arthur didn't think he was the cause for the uneasy look on his servant's face.

"It's tucked away securely in the vaults, hidden so that it won't be easy to find." He watched Merlin for a moment. "You really hated that thing, didn't you?" he asked.

"Yes. I did. I told you, crystals are dangerous."

"I thought you might like it a bit more after it helped you defeat the maera," Arthur noted.

To his surprise, Merlin shuddered. "If there's a maera, then yes, it's useful. But if not, it's an instrument of torture. Arthur, it should never be used unless it's absolutely necessary."

Arthur stared at him for a moment. "What did it do to you?" he asked, both curious and concerned.

Merlin looked away from him, sitting back against his pillows again and staring vacantly ahead.

"I saw things. Nightmares. My absolute worst nightmares. I saw you killing me. I saw my mother dying. You sentencing me to death and Gaius lighting the fire. Morgana dying. You dying, and I couldn't save you." Merlin shook his head. "Sometimes memories were mixed in and sometimes not. It was all the things I fear the most, mixed with the worst things that have ever happened to me. It kept going until I realized it was a nightmare." He paused. "I tried to scream. To tell you to take it off. Did you hear me?"

"Yes," Arthur said quietly, staring at him. "I heard you."

Merlin nodded. "I thought you must, because they stopped after that. Everything just went black. But if you hadn't taken it off…Arthur, I would have been lost in those nightmares forever."

Arthur tried to wrap his mind around this. Merlin's fear was easy to see, and had been since they first found the Ainthia, but it had been harder to understand. It was just a rock, after all.

But being perpetually trapped in a world of nightmare made sense, and the thought was chilling. For the first time, Arthur understood Merlin's terror.

"Your greatest fears," Arthur mused soberly. "They include me killing you. And having you executed. Apparently as two different things?"

Merlin poked at his soup with his spoon. "They were just dreams," he said finally.

"No more secrets," Arthur reminded him. "No more lies." It had become a refrain over the past few weeks, a gentle reminder of the promise whenever Merlin started to withdraw.

"The first dream…you asked if I killed the maera. When I said yes, you said you didn't need me anymore, and you took your sword…" Merlin trailed off. "The other one, I was on a pyre, and you were on the balcony declaring my sentence."

"That damn pyre again," Arthur muttered. "Why do you always go back to that?"

"Blame the Ainthia," Merlin answered darkly.

They sat quietly again, but this time the silence weighed heavily as they each sat lost in their thoughts.

"You could have told me, you know." Arthur broke the silence. "I'm not saying I wouldn't have been shocked or mad. But I would have listened."

He waited, but Merlin didn't say anything.

"Merlin? Did you really think I would kill you if I found out?"

Merlin sighed. "I don't know. I _didn't_ know. I just knew you would be mad, and I didn't want to face that. I was a coward, I guess."

"Yes," Arthur agreed. He tried to keep his voice gentle; he wasn't saying it to be unkind, but it was true. "You were, a little bit. Somewhat out of character for you, I have to admit." He sighed, sitting back in his chair. He was out of his depth. He could discuss battles and politics and matters of state, but he had no idea how to discuss personal matters like this.

"It's hard, Merlin," he confessed, "for me to know how little you trust me."

Merlin finally looked up from the soup, eyes wide. "I'd trust you with my life!" he protested, indignant.

Arthur smiled sadly. "But not with the truth about who you are."

"I'm sorry," Merlin said, sighing. "I know I messed up. And I know you're angry. I just…Arthur, I hope that someday you'll be able to forgive me."

Arthur nodded, thinking on those words. "I don't think I am anymore. Angry, I mean. I think the minute I saw you sliced open in your sleep, the anger disappeared. I thought at first it might come back, but now…now, I don't think it will."

Merlin sat up straighter, opening his mouth to speak, then immediately let out a small whimper at the movement.

"Shut up and say still," Arthur ordered, frowning as he tried to articulate what had happened. "I'm still trying to reconcile the Merlin I thought I knew with the real Merlin. But you going into a dream to fight a monster by yourself…that's exactly the sort of idiotic the thing the Merlin I knew would do. But it's also something only the real Merlin – the one with magic – _could_ do. It made sense, seeing those two sides come together like that."

"I never meant to lie about who I am," Merlin said softly. "About what I could do, yes, but not about who I am."

"I believe you." Arthur ran his hand over his face. "So. Magic isn't inherently evil?"

Merlin smiled. "No, Arthur. Like anything else, it can be wielded for good or evil."

"That certainly makes a mess out of Camelot's laws, doesn't it?" Arthur made a face.

Merlin froze, his eyes widening. "You would consider changing the laws?" he asked cautiously.

Arthur realized for the first time that Merlin, who was idiotically optimistic about so many things, was scared of hope. Scared to believe that Arthur wouldn't execute him. That Arthur wouldn't reject him. That someday, the laws might change so he could live freely.

"I'm thinking about it," he said quietly. "It wouldn't be simple. It wouldn't be fast."

"I understand." Merlin's voice was a little breathless, his eyes dazed with disbelief.

"Have you ever imagined it?" Arthur eyed him curiously. "A world where magic was permitted?"

Merlin laughed incredulously. "Are you kidding?"

"What does it look like when you imagine it?" As he spoke, Arthur realized it may be an odd question, but he wanted to know how Merlin had pictured this new world.

Merlin thought for a moment. "I'm not scared all the time," he said softly. "And I can help people without having to hide or pretend that I'm not helping. If we were attacked by bandits or something, I wouldn't have to go crouch behind a log and whisper spells under my breath that only do small things, like make someone drop their sword. I could be out there in the fight, casting shields around you and the knights and actually helping fight back."

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "If magic were allowed, you'd still want to be my servant? I'm sure there are plenty of people who would pay for your magical assistance."

Merlin frowned at Arthur in confusion. "But that's not my destiny."

"Ah, no," Arthur remembered with a smile. "Your destiny is to help the Once and Future King."

"Please don't refer to yourself as that," Merlin said sourly. "Your head is big enough already."

Arthur smirked at him, and then broached the subject that had been on his mind more and more over the past few weeks. "I've been thinking about getting another servant."

When he saw the look on Merlin's face, Arthur wished he had begun his proposal differently. Merlin looked devastated.

"You said you weren't angry anymore! Arthur, I—"

"Stop. I'm not sacking you."

It took Merlin a moment to process those words, and then he visibly relaxed, looking relieved and confused.

"I'm thinking about having a second servant who can help with things. Free you up some to do the things that require someone with your…unique abilities."

Merlin blinked in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes. Kind of like the unofficial king's sorcerer. Who nobody knows about. For now, at least, until I figure out what to do about the laws. Don't get too excited," he added when he saw the grin overtaking Merlin's face. "I still don't know much about magic, and I don't know how this will work. But…" he eyed Merlin critically. "I'm guessing this thing with the maera was not the first time you've saved Camelot with magic."

Merlin laughed. Not a small chuckle, but a laugh that shook his whole body, making him cringe and clutch his chest even as he kept laughing.

"Stop it, you idiot!" Arthur ordered him, alarmed. "Gaius will have my head if you reopen those wounds!"

Merlin calmed himself down, still snickering. "Yes, Arthur, I have saved Camelot with magic before."

Arthur glared at him before continuing. "As I was saying, you've saved Camelot before without me knowing, and I asked you to use magic to save it from the maera. It would be somewhat hypocritical of me to turn around now and say you can never use it again. Not to mention it wouldn't be in the best interests of my people. But if you're busy doing magical things to protect the kingdom, someone still needs to muck out the stables."

Suddenly Merlin grimaced and Arthur looked at him inquisitively. "I thought you'd be happy."

Merlin sat silent for a moment, clearly working through some kind of internal struggle. Then he burst out, "Is it going to be George?"

"George is a very good servant," Arthur said, trying to keep a smirk off his face.

"George is a prat," Merlin grumbled, and Arthur couldn't help laughing.

"Are you actually jealous?"

Merlin looked horrified. "Of course not! If someone else wants to babysit your royal ass, they're welcome to!"

"Even George?"

Merlin just scowled.

"I can't stand him either," Arthur admitted. "Even though he _is_ a very good servant."

"You need someone who isn't a bootlicker."

"I need someone who isn't incompetent."

Arthur returned Merlin's glare with a sunny smile. Then Merlin's face softened, and he shook his head in disbelief.

"Are you serious about all of this, Arthur? Legalizing magic? Not sacking me _and_ letting me do magic to help you and Camelot?"

"It'll take time," Arthur reminded him again. "And lots of baby steps. But yes." He smiled. "It will be a new age for Camelot."

* * *

Merlin was still in a state of shock as he watched Arthur leave for the night.

Legalizing magic.

The king's sorcerer.

It was the sort of thing he abstractly imagined on his best day, but had never been brave enough to believe would actually happen. Despite all of Kilgharrah's predictions, he realized now that he had never _truly_ believed things would change. That Camelot would change.

He spent years pouring himself into helping Arthur become the man who would fulfill his destiny. And now…

"The time of Albion," he whispered to the empty room.

It was coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! I do have a couple of one-shot sequels already written for this, so I'll post those later this week. (By the way, if there's something specific you'd like to see in a short sequel, let me know!)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! Extra thanks to those of you who left such supportive and encouraging comments along the way!


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